Thoughtful

Tom Stephenson's blog will affect a few readers today.
Suicide and the debate surrounding this, the most emotive, most irrational and to some most selfish of self destructive acts will bang on to the end of time.
Soon I shall me mentoring new Samaritans during the final parts of their extensive training.
In between the time wasters, the sex callers, the lonely, the unhappy and the distressed they will be faced with the suicidal caller and how the newbies cope with those first calls can have a profound effect on their careers within an already shrinking service.
I remember one particular caller when I started as a volunteer. A young professional man sat in his car on an unamed beach somewhere in Britain who was taking an overdose.
I remember throwing everything I had into that call.
Every " trick" I had in my arsenal was brought into play to bring some positive resolution out of a terribly sad situation but after an hour of talking the caller finally ended our conversation and I was left unsure of the outcome of a person I had suddenly come to care about.
At my debrief my mentor just let me talk about the call
She simply reflected that I had done my best.
and that's all any of us can do in situations like these

Winter Morning

Not sure I have anything to say today.
The cottage is uncharacteristically quiet
The sun is weak and watery and all I can hear is the tick of the clock and the squabbling of the hedge sparrows by the front door

In All Seriousness

I had a laptop for Christmas and my computer skills are noticeably lacking given the fact I am now so used to iPad workings.
Taking a break from acer this and Firefox that, I ambled through social media news with it's memes, fake news and photos of kittens.
One " party game" caught my eye
It was titled " NAMING YOUR VAGINA!" 
Apparently your vagina ( and presumably penis) name is that of a recently watched movie you have enjoyed
God help us.....with all that is happening in this world , I am reading a list of vagina names ..named after movies?!
However The First Lady that answered made me guffaw
" With my luck with the opposite sex......it would have to be Disney's FROZEN " she typed

Your Best Gift

My light box message this morning!

As a kid, gifts mean more than anything else in the world.
As a adult other things seem to matter more.
Blogger Rachel's reunion with Peter on Christmas Day was sweeter than the ending of Shiela Burnfords's The Incredible Journey and her joyful post, I know has made many of our Christmases just that little bit nicer, especially given the painful and at times arduous journey she made after he originally left.
The Weaver, in her indomitable let's get on with things style has faced her own demons this year and still manages to face the world with a ukulele and a smile and Thomas is still soldiering  on despite  Brexit and slump in European candlestick sales.
The older I get, the more importance I hold in health. In making the effort and in enjoying things.
When Some people take joy out of a tv the size of a barn door or a car that is able to talk to you and park itself...I quite pride myself in getting giddy as a kipper over my new vinyl floor in the kitchen .
Horses for courses.
Christmas Day was sweet because the family got together without agenda. It was a day when my twin sister merrily got drunk during charades. When my older sister manfully battled with dishing out the starters as the entire male population made balloon animals and when the Prof delighted in wearing his gold lame underpants in public! 
That's what is important.
Enjoying the small stuff.....

So as I play with my new light box message board! I have to ask what's your best gift this year?
What are you thankful for? What's made you smile, proud or just happy?
It has to be positive......
I want things to be positive today
I'd be interested to know! 

Gold Lamé Underpants

One of the gifts my sister bought The Prof and I were a pair of gold ( for him) and silver ( for me) novelty underpants which went down a bit of a storm.
I was reminded of a long distant Christmas from childhood when my father ran into a crowded room in his vest and y fronts and fell into the Christmas tree with an inebriated in law.
That was in the 1970s and public underwear wearing was deemed hilarious way back then.
We seem much more sophisticated now

The Prof is cooking today in his Christmas pyjamas !
He is presently cooking a ham and is preparing a mountain of bubble and squeak.
I am sat in the living room armchair, still a bit washed out but grateful that my now chest infection is becoming more mobile. I sound like a pan of scouse which is bubbling away on the stove top.
Yes I'm painting a rather attractive picture of myself rant I ? .....lovely!

I better get up....as the dogs need feeding,
I've been reminded as I've just seen Winnie eat a very small hand knitted Christmas pudding tree decoration.
Hey ho

We were fed and watered wonderfully at my sister's home yesterday so today's its 1970s Boxing day fare with a retro trifle !

Darlings.......

We went to the Church service last night and despite man flu the vicar gave one of his best Christmas sermons.
He talking about the comfort of the familiar , just like the " Baby Jesus" moment I mentioned in yesterday's post....and although he is quite used to me being rather irreverent , I hope he understood just how genuiningly moving such little moments are when they become part of your own tradition.
Gaynor The mad organist , was dressed in her best tartan suit and I told her she looked like a Bay City Roller fan . She looked stressed !....organisists , mad or otherwise, are greatly sought after at this time of year.
This morning the Prof and I swapped gifts as Winnie searched the wrapping paper debris we are meeting up with my family later...and I'll post some photos of us all..even if you don't want to see them
Have a nice day my people x

Bring On The Baby Jesus

Virus' are bad bastards.
Mine has morphed from being hot, fevered and ache based
To explosive cough and snot based.
I'm also at the stage where pent up coughs force out nuclear speed farts at the same time.
Much to the chagrin of the Prof who shakes his head sadly when I let another one fly across the kitchen.
Hey ho.... not to be downhearted !

A few chores today, which is nice. Last minute Christmas card deliveries need to be done
I'm making parmesan biscuits this afternoon followed by the obligatory sherry trifle.
and we are going to Church later to hear the vicar utter those traditional  Christmas service words as the nativity scene is completed with the arrival of one last tiny figurine
" Mrs Davies .......bring on the baby Jesus!" 

Have a peaceful and happy Christmas Eve, wherever you are

Help

Although I'm full of aches and pains , I am feeling a bit better today
I need a bit of help from blogland as I have been given the job of organising some sort of quiz/ game for the family to play on Christmas Day.
Please give me some of your ideas.

Christmas 2002

Our old dining room in Sheffield

This time last year I posted my most popular post
http://disasterfilm.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/christmas-1985.html
Something resonated with Going Gently readers ( or google perhaps) and I had 2500 unique visits to this a sad tale of a lonely psychiatric patient at Christmas 1985
I can't match that story , even so  believe me when I say I've had some equally sad and moving experiences when I was nursing over the Yuletide season
So tonight I will share with you my best Christmas memory
It was a simple few moments on Christmas Morning back in 2002
A simple few moments I shall always remember
I had Christmas Off ( a bloody rarity ) with The Prof and after a posh breakfast  and gift swapping we were sat in our dining room on a tiny sofa in the window warmed with weak morning sun. The Prof gave me a hug of thanks for his very expensive gift ( not!)  when our dogs Finlay ( a Welsh terrier very much like William) and Maddie- a bad tempered Scottie both dived on top  of us not wanting to be left out of the celebrations and for that moment as dogs , husband to be and I hugged in one big fat mess,  I realised that  I was truly loved ........and truly home . 

Powerful Women

I'm still feeling like shit and settled down for another sleepless night coughing on the sofa with my iPlayer, Mary and Winnie last night
I ended up watching an episode of Feud to pass the time.
"A Powerful story of powerful women "
On reflection I realised that my life has always been filled with powerful interesting women
My Maternal Grandmother and Mother were powerhouses in so many different days, one positively and one less so
My sisters ( and sister in law ) have always provided my life with a backdrop of never ending support
And my friends Nu, and Jane have always given me the humour and sparkle I've always needed .
Add to the mix sparking nieces,ballsy bloggers, old Welsh ladies, Sheffield, Derbyshire and Denbighshire nurses,aunts,  a psychologist with balls, village schoolgirls with attitude, and an eternally cheerful mother in law and you will agree I have been rather blessed by everything feminine

Who have you been moulded by? 

Speckled Bread

Mary and I spent a rather sleepless night on the couch last night.
No, it wasn't a result of the obligatory Christmas Row ,
I was full of a cough and a heavy cold and Mary has an ear infection and so in order to allow The Prof some sort of rest from the coughing and itching before his work today, I banished both of us to the couch.
At 5.00 am, after the log burner had died down, Winnie tried to join us in an effort to keep warm.
I feel like a the new parent of a colicky baby this afternoon. Tired and headachy.

I have left the house only once to walk the dogs ( with Albert in tow) and so missed animal helper Pat when she called around with a Christmas gift of homemade bara brith.
I wasn't out long as I went in the mood Albert's insistence in walking with us even on the main road,
That cat will get himself killed one day
I found the loaf tied to the back door handle ( Aunty Glad style) when we got home.

Now for those that down know Bara Brith is a Welsh fruit bread usually made without yeast. It is often flavoured with tea and is eaten thinly sliced and Covered in butter.
It is delicious and incredibly moreish

In Welsh bara means bread and brith means speckled.
The "Speckled" title refers to dense amounts of fruit in the recipe.

Stock photo bara brith

I'll leave you with some nativity scenes, I'm off for a lemsip

....and finally

Lifestyle blog today. That mixed with a tale of some monumental sulking after the floor layers refused to say hello to Winnie and she in a fit of pique flung herself onto the vinyl like Scarlet did after being rejected by Ashley Wilkes.

Two open shelves need to be built on the wall behind the table but apart from that the kitchen is now finished and remains clean, tidy, bright and fresh.

Hey ho

The Things You Notice

Mince pies in the window

Tomorrow the kitchen floor goes down and the kitchen will finally be finished..I'll post photos of it then for you all to ooohhh and arrrhhhh at ! ....today I've spent my time baking at the kitchen window.
For years this window was screened by an antique French lace banner but since the new window went in, I have left the frame uncovered and have subsequently enjoyed the view when cooking.
Today and yesterday I noticed that the human traffic through the churchyard seemed particularly heavy.
Wrapped up in winter coats, groups of people in ones and twos have been crossing the graveyard all carrying Christmas wreaths and on a break from dusting mince pies George, Winnie and I ambled over to see what was going on.
Over eighty Christmas Wreaths had been placed on the " newer " graves in the tiny cemetery. Most were made of holly and ivy but cheerful poinsettia blooms, tinsel and small flowers added to the tributes, indeed , as we ambled along the paths another couple arrived to lay their own Christmas wreath on a grave next to that of the Red Faced Welsh Farmer.
For many people Christmas can be such a bittersweet time.
The steady stream of visitors to the Church perhaps was a testament to that fact
The things you notice when you stand baking at the kitchen window.

Ps the caption winner was Terrill

Caption

Best caption gets a gift

Bored?

"Don't you ever get bored?" 
The Prof asks me this quite regularly
He asks me because he gets bored very easily.
I don't.

I washed the cottage windows clean of the snow dirt this morning. It was bright and cold and damp and the bachelors were on tip toe, creeping across the wet pasture to the old hen house against the church wall. On cold dank days they sit on the top of it with their faces turned towards the weak sun.
Sun bathing animals are rather moving to watch I've always thought.

I moved the Church Christmas Tree from the boiler house to the vestry for Gaynor the mad organist to erect and cleared some shelves in old Trevor's garage. He's in full pottering mode.

William has stationed himself by the letterbox as the sunshine has brought out the Christmas card deliverers. He delights in trying to nip the fingers of an over zealous postie.

I've cleared away the garden rubbish, walked the dogs, and have delivered Christmas cards myself . The ones I put aside for the villagers who live down the lane to the south of Trelawnyd .
The lane never seems to catch the sun and Mary and I were chilled when we returned.

The light outside is already fading as I open my new " baking cupboard" I'm making mince pies which will have to be hidden around the house out of prying Prof's eyes.

I'm listening to Anne Marie Minhall's programme on Classic Fm and as the Prof is working late tonight and The Walking Dead  doesn't restart until February, I shall content myself with watching the first episode of the Bette Davis / Joan Crawford tv drama Feud. 

Bored? Nawwww

Kitchen Art

Coincidence !
Yesterday we went Christmas shopping and as we passed a local art gallery in Llandudno I suggested we go in and look at the exhibits
After a while The Prof pointed out an original picture that he liked and I was gobsmacked as I remembered falling in love with it when seeing the same print in Theatre Clwyd earlier in the year.
The tiny Church reminded me of our village church and the style of the piece gave me a nostalgic 1930 sort of feeling!
He bought it on the spot
It's going in our new kitchen ........

Christmas Tree

We have a big one this year
Ohh err missus.....

Drummed Out Of Gay Club

Christmas dos can be dire affairs.
Mediocre food, boring company, a disappointing secret Santa ( don't go there John)
I've done them all.
Last night I drove for over an hour into England to go to the Christmas do of the Prof's Western Campus staff .
Now  we're sat at a table which included two much younger gay married couples and so after a few bottles of Prosecco you can imagine that there were much shaking of 30 inch hips.
I've told you before that the Prof is a talented dancer and so in these kind of situations he would shake his booty with the best of them but without the safety net of a gin and tonic and not knowing anyone I managed to hide away with the other wall flowers and chatted about holidays.
At one point the husband of one of the academics bounced over during a particularly energetic rendition of the Weather Girls it's raining men in a kind effort to drag me up onto the dance floor
He looked shocked when I informed him that I couldn't dance with an overly surprised expression that said
But ALL GAY MEN CAN DANCE!!!!!!!
Sadly , not this one baby!
Having said this, they were all such a nice bunch that I thought next year we would go on the arranged bus rather than drive. After a couple of gin and bitter lemons, and as long as they had a bit Abba playing. I'd be up with the best of them!
And boy would that do the Prof's credibility any good at all?  Hey ho!

Bits

Waiting for another workman who promised to arrive at 9.30.
It's 10.30
Then it's Xmas shopping with prof
Then it's his works dinner
Nose to nipple with  academics
Hey ho

Rising From The Ashes

The bachelors remain diminutive local celebrities of sorts......indeed only a few days ago, they provided much hilarity to a neighbour by chasing a woman hiker down the lane after she had made the mistake of waving her ski stick at them.
The Ukrainian Village has looked rather forlorn of late  so I have decided that after our New Year Kent jaunt I will spruce up the main two hen houses and will move in a small robust group of buff Orpingtons . The bachelors deserve some female company, and large fat hens will be able to cope with eager little penises with a calm alacrity .
I have missed my own free range eggs....my new kitchen needs them me thinks
"Bosoms " ( which is the collective name of my fenced allotments ) will be  resurrected and the pasture land cleared again for Irene and a new friend ( s) to enjoy. The spring is the ideal time to get tame orphan lambs or even another soay.
In the summer I think a village fete may be in order......
Oh and for those that are missing auntie glad news, this photo was posted on the Male Voice Choir's social media page this morning

"Some choir members visited Sandford Care Home in Prestatyn this morning to spend some time with Aunty Gladys. It was wonderful to see her looking so well and we hope that she and the other residents enjoyed the selection of carols we sang for them though she did question our posture and intonation at times."