Thank You

You can just see my grandfather clock against my yellow walls

I've not long finished rearranging furniture and paintings in my yellow living room.
I remembered the " Applause the NHS " initiative at the last minute and went outside into the cold and the dark with the girls to see if anything would happen.
My village has not even a dozen streets, but the applause started subtly echoing around the houses and cottages and dark lanes politely and hesitant at first. and I joined in as I stood near London road with tears in my eyes as voices and calls of " Thank You John!"  Came sweetly out of the darkness.

Yellow


The days have a pace of their own and in the fine spring weather the villagers daily constitutionals seem to take them past the cottage and out into the countryside
Mrs Trellis, Doctor Tom, Pippa, Jane with her over friendly Great Dane Hudson, Animal Helper Pat, Meirion, Ian the unofficial village Mayor, Trendy Carol  etc etc etc
I see them all potter past as I bore myself silly with painting the living room a gentle vanilla yellow.
Sometimes I'd go out to say hello, my hair splattered as much as my least favourite Walking Dead T shirt ( the one with Negan on it)
I'm not listening to the radio, but tend to play classic movies on TCM as way of an accompaniment

Can each of you leave a message to tell me how you are.....I'm going a bit stir crazy



Winnie



Trendy Carol ( wearing some urban Chic today) called round and at a 2 metre distance took the girls to her house while I was painting
She sent a photo of Winnie after the old lass had run amok with an old tennis ball
She may be fading but my best girl can still surprise with bursts of excitement and fun.
And Tonight she is curled up with her gin trap mouth lying heavily on my feet.tired and happy
She's such an valiant old broad
With a smile like a large split watermelon

United


I received a somewhat cryptic message yesterday stating simply that " Your men are ready!" 
I knew what it meant.
After a quick trip for provisions ( I must say that the village Warden group is doing a fine job btw) I stopped by the back of my now closed pottery class and picked up my figures which had been fired for me.
They all lay in a box, looking up at me like a collection of baby birds and I was delighted that all had survived the firing process in the kiln.

My group was somewhat pompously called " United" when I made them but given the situation that we are all finding ourselves in at the moment, this little collection of eclectic figures have some resonance with me today.

All of us are looking forward with some concern.
We are seeking solice together, even though a lot us are isolated
And many of us using technology to make that happen

I'm painting my living room a gentle yellow today.
When done my hopeful group will sit in the window
Admiring the view

Choir


Nearly half of the choir turned up on Zoom at 6.30pm
and as the video shows the whole affair was a bit like hearding cats.
Poor Jamie and his .1940s RAF moustache, he had a big job on his hands

As it turned out it was the exact tonic that I think we all needed.
In an hour and a half we sang just three songs
But we laughed and laughed and giggled the experience away as unfamiliar hands cocked up video streams and Gill from Dyserth chomped her way a rather large chocolate wagon wheel.
Bemused husbands sat next to their spouses, and dogs and cats jumped up in front of the camera, and cups of tea appeared next to piles of choirsheets in Welsh country kitchens that have seen limited humour and laughter over this past long week.

Our final song was You Raise Me Up , and as we sang , we all swayed dramatically from side to side, free of the confines of the real choir room in the village hall and it felt, powerful and emotional and good.

I hope that through this fucking corona virus disaster, we all will reconnect with what's so important in life

Our.....simple......smiling.......caring.......humanity

Zoom


It was nice to whatsapp Blogger Rachel this morning as I was cutting open avocados
We chatted about nothing for a little while and the mundane nature of the conversation was a pleasure enough after yesterday evening's passing sadness.
This evening the choir gets together via Zoom which will be an adventure in itself and moments ago Mrs Trellis left two Breakaway chocolate bars on the kitchen wall, both wrapped in kitchen paper.
Written in felt pen on the wrapping was one simple word " Trellis"
She's a legend in her her own lifetime

This morning I start painting the living room ceiling ivory.
Enjoy this little video, I was putting off the painting by making it.


Lock down

Boris was blunt and to the point
I'm glad
The lowest denominator factored in
I felt quite alone earlier,  after he had spoken.
No husband to bounce off
No warm body to hug

I sat feeling sad and turned to the sofa were three pairs of eyes looked at me very carefully in the dark
The dogs sensed something was afoot, they have for days
They were on edge and watchful
And they watched me carefully
Mary jumped silently by my side and leaned in like Welsh terriers do

I'm not alone

Michonne


I've never really like Robert Kirkman's larger than life characters from The Walking Dead comic books. They are florid, and unsympathetic and often too large to be believed.
But under the thoughtful, measured and intelligent control of actress Danai Gurira, the tv Michonne 
became a pivotal leading character in a series that initially was less than sympathetic to the African American characters
In tonight's episode we saw Michonne walk away from her Alexandrian family and friends for the last time and her inspired, Japanese sword wheeling heroine  will be sorely missed  by anyone who has loved the show over the past decade
Pity she didn't go out with a bang

Piss Boring Blog

Piss Boring Blog today.
I've started my holiday time by hand cleaning the living room Gaudy Welsh Jugs which are dusty and soot covered after months facing the log burner fire.


 The living room paintings have been cleaned too, then carefully placed on the bed in the west wing
In order for me to sugar soap the living room  walls in preparation for painting.


The photographs of nearby Llandudno yesterday
Were sobering .
Please let us all not get angry, or judgemental
But let us all take a little time to reinforce just what social distancing means in real life
Let's teach each other with patience 



Supporting Serendipity


I've planted out violas, primulas and little blue daisy flowers given to me by Mrs Trellis.
My gargoyle in the front garden watches out for bad visitors and bad luck.
I am sure serendipity is his adopted name.
The bulldogs nap in the sun as the gray limestone of the cottage warms up in the spring sunshine.
I've got the covid 19 flyers to post along Cwm Road and to Erw Wen later but just now have walked the 50 steps ( and climbed the Graveyard wall- another 6) to my neighbour the Church in order to sit in it's peace.
My cottage name Bwthyn-y-Llan means Church Cottage in Welsh and I walked over to sit in the stillness of the place as suggested on the poster on the notice board which thought  people may like a period of reflection in the once daily opened Church.


Earlier I went to the supermarket and bought only flowers.
Tulips of all colours with blue hyacinths and gypsophila
And when I got home, I filled all of my antique glass jugs and flowers now stand guard in every window
A guard against bad luck and misfortune
Serendipity always needs a little boost
Does she not?




Ps
A final photograph from my former colleagues from intensive Care Glan Clwyd  Hospital
Please take note of their message 
I love many of these guys



If Your Sex Life Was A Movie?


I mentioned that I had trouble getting dog food the other day
And today I had six separate deliveries of dog food, some left by the back door, and some delivered by hand.
I was very humbled .

Today I think we will play the online game of

If your sex life was a movie, which movie would it be ?

You can be as creative as you can. And I know we've played it before but
There will be a prize for the best entry

My entry?

Hummmm how about this?


Tired


I'm on my break
Sipping a large Diet Coke
My face mask has been up and down on my face like a tart's knickers
And I feel dehydrated and rather tired tonight.
I'm on holiday after this shift

The Emergency meeting at the Village Hall allocated me and Sailor John two streets in Trelawnyd to police.
Our jobs is to liaise with every household and let everyone know how to contact us if they need anything.
The velvet voiced Linda from Well street was well in charge and sweetly asked if I needed anything
I told her that I was always concerned about dog food given the selling out of doggychunks at Sainsbury's . She kindly said she would look out for some

I'm tired but fine.
I'm mindful that others are somewhat less robust than I and are in need of a Kind word and an appropriate quip. A matron from the local hospital has been in touch asking if I can possibly return to Intensive Care .
The thought of proper  12 hour shift PPE sends a shiver down my spine
My present face mask is claustrophobic enough, even though it's generally useless.

I hear there are no visitors allowed on ITU
No one to stroke your hair


Night Shifts


A patient's relative showed me a tweet he had just read By an Australian twitterer called something like Busty Broad
This is what she said
" If anyone knocks on your door saying that they need to feel your boobs to test for coronovirus ,
It's a con....
I feel so stupid!" 

A Stream Of Conciousness

I'm working night shifts this week to cover nurses who have had to put themselves into isolation .
Next week I am on holiday, though I suspect things may change if staff shortages continue.
Everything has changed in work, everything.
And emotions are running high.

In a fit of testosterone I went to B&Q  ( a hardware store for those that don't know) and bought paint and sugar soap and extra brushes .
The store was busy with people with similar plans
Next week I shall start painting my living room a gentle and relaxing vanilla yellow

I feel somewhat bombarded with information

Twitter seems awash with stoic and funny comments about isolation
But most have a sort of shocked desperation about them
Thank the lord for Justin Trudeau and his cute baby beard
I wish he was our Prime Minister.

Some of my family are scared of what will happen. The daily bulletins at 5 pm are teatime grenades
There was no dog food left in Sainsbury's yesterday
They don't mention that on the news.
I had a sausage bab in Mark's cafe yesterday.
There was only two of us in there and I still dribbled butter down my front.....

My friend Ben at work sounds as though he needs a pint. I hope to catch up with him and another workmate Ruth very soon. This is the first time since I worked in spinal Injuries that I've got friends at work.
Ben used to work under my husband.....
It's a small world.

I've just messaged the village pub to see if they do any takeaways?
It may be a source of revenue if taken up by hungry villagers

Theatr Clwyd and the Storyhouse in Chester are now shut, I know it sounds silly but I feel their loss rather acutely.

I'm on my break at work and it's 4.45 am
Briefly I stood outside a few minutes ago and let the cold air over West Shore perk me up.
A short line of mountain goats were picking their way down the Orme towards the hospice
and from somewhere a gull called out in the dark.

Everything feels , just a little surreal





Memory


I'm changing the subject today and will share a story I have shared here at least once over my years of blogging.
Apologies if you have heard the story before
I just think it's worth a repeat, especially today.

I was just twenty two years old when I first grew up as a nurse and as a man
I remember the situation as if it was yesterday, and the memory seared into my psychi thirty six years ago is fresh and as moving and as important as it was on that muddy weekday morning when I was slopping tea into thirty empty cups in the kitchen of an old asylum Ward .

I was tired and weary.
One of four staff, I had helped 30 men to get washed, dressed and fed on Durham ward. A ward that catered for the senile, the head injured and the institutionalised.
It was late morning and the men had been sat in a routine square around the day room as the staff puffed fags on the verandah.
I didn't smoke so it was my job to get their tea, before another rounding of toileting began
The tea was made in one large metal teapot. Tea, milk and sugar all added to the mix and it took two hands to lift the pot as I poured the brew out into saucerless cups.

As I worked I watched the female residents of Durham's sister ward Daresbury , all sat in similar poses along the square of their dayroom chairs.
In one corner sat a visitor .
I had often seen him before , and recognised his smart suit, and his polished shoes.
He always sat with a very still patient, a patient that I assumed to be his wife and they shared tea from a flask that he brought with him every morning.
I remember his wife having grey hair that was curled chignon style at the nape of her neck and that morning I watched in a half interested way, as he started to pull her out of her chair to her feet.
His wife stood shakily, like senile people often do when they don't understand what is wanted of them and after a bit of manoeuvring the man held her in a waltz hold.
They staggered back and forth for some moments, unbalanced and unpracdictable and then I saw something quite magical happen as her muscle memory started to kicked in
With a turn of her head on an arched neck she grasped his hand tightly and they started to waltz .
Very slowly at first , but with a gathering momentum, they two of them danced around infront  of two dozen unseeing eyes , with only me there to witness the event, and they did two circuits of the room before silently  returning to their seats like a pair of ghosts.
I stood still , the teapot still in my hands , and  wept.
In one tiny moment I had seen a true love expressed and recognised the importance of seeing hospital patients as real people with a past and a future

And at the age of twenty two

I grew up


Meeting

The Village Hall at busier and happier times

The chairs in the Memorial hall had been set up a suggested one metre apart formation  but in the end most of the villagers that turned up sat in groups of two and three.
Around thirty souls turned up to volunteer.
I know most of them.
Irene & Mo, matriarchs from the Friendship Group sat on the front row.
Surrounded by members of the Community Council and the Community Association
The Crown's landlady , Karen and Bunty from the Women's Institute and Affable despot Jason Sat alongside Hattie from choir and Meirion who used to help out with the Flower Show.
A lady with COPD on oxygen sat away in one corner .
Nick, the velvet voiced Linda ( his wife) and Ed ( son of the red faced Welsh farmer ) added to the numbers nicely
Jason whispered " Dads Arny " as the meeting started
Most of the older villagers, I know wisely stayed away

Like most meetings that have to look at unknown worries there was a lot of talk.
I could see Hattie getting slightly frustrated as our remit seemed clear to her an experienced young nurse.
Find out who needs and wants help
And coordinate volunteers to sort out that help

Simples!

What was agreed is that the whole village of Trelawnyd and her sister village of Gwaenysgor will be flyered  with cards offering help and the contact numbers of a couple of coordinators. Once we know numbers that require support then the appropriate number  of volunteers can be allocated

There was a lot of talk about just how much the economics of the virus will affect people's livihoods when the meeting broke up .
Hattie and I looked at each other carefully
Our jobs will only get bigger

Hattie and me



Urgent Notice



Urgent Alert


The meeting to implement the Community Resilience Plan to support all affected iby Coronavirus in the community has been brought forward due to the latest developments to Tuesday March 17th at 7:00pm at the Trelawnyd Memorial Hall. All volunteers to help are welcome.

Only One Roll Of Toilet Paper


I've Not stockpiled toilet paper
But I do have a bit more dog food than usual.
Choir has been cancelled as have yesterday's theatre trip and tomorrow's cinema jaunt.
And today I've bought a large selection of books to read during the next few weeks.

I'm feeling lonely already.
But that's only because my-look-forward-to planned catch ups have had to be cut short.
My " spare " time will now have to be shared with bike riding ( I'm going to get fucking fit)
House decorating ( my next holiday) book reading and allotment digging.
Oh and I guess my telephone bill will be increasing drastically as the only voices I will hear at home will be from the cast of The Archers.

I'm feeling sorry for myself just a little , as I suspect we all are doing

Dead Air

Italians are not the only people who like to sing
Yesterday afternoon, as we updated our care plans and filled out the necessary intentional rounding sheets, a couple of nurses I work with started to sing in Welsh.
I didn't know the words to some of their songs but managed to gently join in with the Welsh hymn Calon Lân as a patient and her visitors came to the hospice corridor in order to listen.
A small human  moment but a tiny powerful one in this mad big world.

This morning I have given my spare bedroom a spring clean.
It now no longer smells of academia and lofty thinking
Of musty papers, dust and dead air.
The windows were opened wide to the cold spring air fresh from Gop Hill and although I aim to repaint and recarpet  the room soon, I washed the paintwork down and shampooed the rub into sweet freshness.
A cheerful new duvet and bedding on special offer at Sainsbury's rebooted the old Victorian bed and I could tell that the ever present Winnie was joyfully thinking " oh goody we are having visitors!" after she watched me plump up the pillows with hopeful brown eyes.
She's ever the optimist


I've made a shepherd's pie and lit the fire
Destry Rides Again is on TCM this afternoon
Sunday chillin