Amazing Piano Duet

This mini film is worth wasting four minutes on

It’s quite touching 

KFC

 I used a lull in my workload at teatime  to collect a KFC 

It was for one of my patients who loves a takeaway 

Food remains a huge pleasure for him, which is often a rare occurrence in palliative care and so like a couple of schoolboys this afternoon we whispered the long KFC menu and he put in his order.

I treated a few of the nurses who weren’t watching their figures too 

For logistical reasons we had only been offered sandwiches from our usually robust canteen.

The patient tucked in to his zinger burger with some gusto and my vicarious pleasure in his pleasure was immeasurable . 

It was funny but as I was sat in the drive in queue I remembered a visit to the same local takeaway three years ago. It was a summers evening and I was with my husband.

We had just been to a particularly harrowing relate appointment and I was feeling bruised and battered and vulnerable.

We stopped because we were hungry 

And I remember feeling rather odd 

Lost in those wonderfully indulgent eight spices

The chicken cushioning  me from all of the hurt. 

Let’s leave things on a lighter note

Taskmaster tonight

My new guilty crush

The comedian Mike Wosniak 

What a tash!!!!

Ruth Bader Ginsburg

The New York Met emails me weekly

 

It doesn’t bother me much unless it’s selling it’s Christmas Decorations 

I bought many of those when I’ve visited New York 

Last night the “ Met “ offered me my own Ruth Bader Ginsburg Action figure and how could I possibly refuse?

So on a whim ...I’ve bought her within seconds of the offer

An elderly Jewish woman action figure of intelligence and humour 

How gay is that...? 

She will be my next so alternative Christmas dec 

Maddie

 Yesterday, I did indeed clean the patio of it’s dirt and winter grime. The old rabbit hutch which had doubled as a wood store was dismantled and added to the field bonfire and as I was returning to the cottage, I spied a squared off stone peeping from behind a large tussock of grass.

It was a headstone of the only dog of mine that was buried on the field.

It was Maddie’s headstone.

I sat and remembered her for a little while

My eyes closed and my face turned to the sun

Maddie was a Scottish Terrier.

She was my second dog, and was grumpy, taciturn and aloof.

A mirror image of Finlay, my welsh terrier who loved the entire World with an open heart.

Maddie loved her masters with all of her heart but showed her affection with all the distance of a 1970 s parent.She would lie next to you, rather than on you and would arrroooo at you rather than lick your face but like a maiden aunt who was dressed for mourning, she was fierce and proud and only had eyes for her nephews who she watched with careful eyes of shiny obsidian. 

Maddie chasing Meg and Finlay

Maddie was never showy 

Never demanding 

And never overly demonstrative 

She enjoyed her quiet life following the others and following you

And after years of not thinking about her, I remembered her quirks and ill temper and loyalty until my eyes stung just a little.

On impulse I lifted her headstone out of the ground and cleaned away the mud and the dirt.

I placed it against the wall on the patio and will soften it’s look with potted primulas and violas 

I thought it would be nice, for passing walkers to read her name out loud when they saw the headstone

And wonder who Maddie was as they did so.

A Little Kindness

 

Village Elder, Islwyn looked busy this afternoon.

I spied him in my field , dragging branches to the ever growing bonfire mound.

He had been pottering around the graveyard,

The graveyard he has unofficially manicured for well over a decade.

He waved.

We talked about Gentleman Farmer Ralph 

He and Islwyn had been good friends.

“ The family said that they can almost see Ralph’s graveyard plot from his farm “ Islwyn said and I nodded looking across the valley to Ralph’s farmhouse standing proud to the South West “Pity  for them there was not a hole in the hedge“ he added.

I noted that the branches in his hands were the size of a small new hole in the graveyard hedge.

Another Daydream

I treated myself to a Moka Pot 

They sell them in Sainsbury’s 

Slightly pretentious I am sure ,

But I have enjoyed the ritual of the coffee making.

And to be fair it doesn’t take long to use.

I’m at the kitchen table at a loss to what to do today.

I’ve swapped my work shifts to the weekend to cover staff shortages and to allow me to participate in Gentleman Farmer Ralph’s funeral. 

I will stand in the lane  at noon , with the dogs by my side,

So what to do today? 

The patio needs scrubbing of its winter grime,

And the loose downspout on the corner of the cottage needs fixing.

The planters needs emptying of dead wood and the wood store that used to be an old rabbit hutch needs dismantling 

All dirty met work .....

I’m day dreaming too, thinking and day dreaming with my fat hands warmed by my coffee mug. The nice blue french mug without a handle...another thing that pleases me.

I’ll start work in a moment....

Just time for another coffee and another day dream

  

Guardian

 

One of the hospice staff snapped this photo today 

I feel we have our own set of guardian angels 

A Thought

 

Ever since I can remember when I have been out walking alone, I take into account the presence of single women around me.

I have never “followed” one, consciously I would always cross over a road to pass a lone woman, and I will often lower my eyes, respectfully as I say hello to a stranger when dog walking.

Am I a rarity ? 

No I don’t think that I am, 

I honestly think that 98% of men are mindful and respectful to women in public but our [ men’s] awareness of women’s discomfort does little to nothing to change the predatory, sexually inappropriate and bullying behaviour some damaged and evil men think is fun or deserving.

All the Vigils and conversations about this subject will not stop these men but efforts to change the justice system relating to the reporting of their behaviours will make a difference in how they are dealt with.

Having said this I found the following observation interesting.

“

Novelist Margaret Atwood writes that when she asked a male friend why men feel threatened by women, he answered, "They are afraid women will laugh at them." When she asked a group of women why they feel threatened by men, they said, "We're afraid of being killed."

The Incident Of The Lavender Bath Bomb

 

Blog reader Donell very kindly sent me a packet of lavender Bath Bombs. 

Lavender is calming and soothing and relaxing.

I kept them for tonight’s long, wonderful soak in the bath.

It’s been a nice day all told. 

This evening I had a phone call from one of my Friday quiz team members who strange-as-it-would-seem kinda found me attractive. 

It was nice to have a flirt.

Anyhow back to the bath bombs

I ran my bath

Threw in two hard as rock bath bombs and prepared myself for a lavender overload.

I must admit as I was pottering around the bathroom , I did say to myself that the odour of lavender wasn’t as strong as I had expected but as the water was steaming hot and inviting , I disrobed and plopped bum first into the bath

RIGHT ON TOP OF TWO MARBLE HARD BATH BOMBS

( no one told me they were wrapped in invisible plastic!)

The other side of the village must of heard the screams, and I clambered out of the tub convinced I was mortally wounded. 

With tears in my eyes I could see the packet of lavender bombs on the window ledge 

They were described as being “ calming” 

Hey ho

Calming ....my arse !

Mozzarella Dippers

 

This morning nine of my fellow students that had enrolled in “ A brief exploration of Wind in Cinema” met up on zoom for coffee. Several live in London, two are from the states and one lives in Malta. 

I am the only Northerner .

By the feel of the conversation most of us live alone ( although rather theatrically one elderly and rather grumpy spouse of a professor type kept shuffling around in the background of his study carrying piles of washing in her arms) and so over the space of nearly two hours we chatted about our favourite films, the recent BAFTA nominations, what film changed your life and the knotty question of Was Hitchcock a real pervert?

All great fun.

The weather deteriorated this afternoon so, after a walk, the dogs and I went up to McDonalds and shared a whole box of mozzarella cheese dippers in complete, joyous silence .

Late Home

The weather was atrocious when I got home 

It was 8.30 pm and Albert, who instantly recognises Bluebell’s engine noise was already in the lane yowling his welcome. 

He stands on the garden wall and we rub heads.

The rain never seems to bother him.

It’s lovely to have a proper welcome even though the cottage is quiet and cold and dark.

I feed Albert first and in the gloom of the lane street light I light the fire, and  minutes later 

When I turn my head in the wintery lane the wood smoke  flew horizontally towards the church .

Fifty steps later ,when  I collected the dogs from Trendy Carol’s  Trendy conservatory , I was treated to a socially distanced preview of her newest VERY trendy sofa.

Loved it too.......expensive leather! 

I fed the girls and checked my mail ......a council tax bill, a vet bill and a lovely lavender gift from Donell 

a kind email from Gentleman Farmer Ralph’s son was waiting to be read too ....Ralph will be leaving his farm for the village graveyard on Friday at noon . In this covid driven world this couldn’t be officially broadcasted but the blog isn’t “official”  in the truest sense of the word and I hope the lane may be filled in a socially distant way with villagers wanting to pay their respects .

It’s half nine now. 

The cottage is warm and Almost cosy

The slow cooker is bubbling away with another fantastic soup and Dorothy is already asleep on my own trendy sofa 

Mary is asleep with me

I’m knackered. 

As Damp As An Old Lady’s Gusset

I was asked recently how I felt in myself.

I answered with an honest and somewhat tired  “ I feel old” an answer which was countered with a rather judgmental and dismissive “ Thats sad, I know a lot of people your age that feel much more positive”

I said nothing but wanted to yell I bet they weren’t wearing full PPE in a south facing airless ward without air con all morning ! I fucking felt every minute of my 58 years that day, a day when my underpants were as damp and inviting as an old lady’s gusset.

Everyone knows me better than I know myself.

My recent not-so-joyful sojourn into potential ill health hasn’t helped matters, a situation gratefully acknowledged by my colleague a medic.....he said men, don’t cope well with fainting do’s. 

I didn’t .........I don’t ....

Well, you would be glad to hear that a plethora of tests are in hand. 

A particularly nasty troll turned up anonymously on Going Gently last Sunday to bang on just how much my ex husband wanted rid of me in lieu of a younger and probably healthier replacement and perhaps you can see it’s not been the most positive of weeks when I always supposed to have a spring in my step and a song in my heart, 

Again you try acting like Donny Osmond when the trolls whine on, PPE soaks your underpants with no pay rise, even a 1% one is in sight and you think you have a brain tumour! 

Ok I was exaggerating about the brain tumour ...but you get the gist.

Today I have been hiding away in my office. It’s very warm and ordered in there and the dogs and Albert love curling up on the  little Victorian brass bed  behind me.

For an hour I attended a ward meeting on teams and was made to remove Dorothy because of her snoring. ( the shame). My sister called up and weeded and tidied the front garden which was a nice surprise and I made a tasty low calorie bean &  barley soup which was thick as wallpaper paste. 

I will be eating it until Sunday.

A tidy garden and thick soup pleased me today.

So did my new office chair with is John Lewis comfortable with its castors and adjustable posture hugging  upholstered seat in a gentle grey.

It arrived yesterday and I successfully put it together today.

I need a hug today....a long doze inducing hug

I think we all do.......

A Galleon In Full Sail.

 

Film studies tonight

Yesterday Llandudno was struck by sixty mile an hour gales. The force of the wind on the Great Orme 

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Orme) was so strong that many more of the Kashmiri Goats plodded down from it’s heights to see shelter in the gardens and the bus stops of West Shore.

It was my first proper day community nursing on my own. 

My sat nav failed, I got lost twice and the spectacle of me changing into PPE behind the hospice car must of made for hilarious viewing in near storm force winds as I tried to control yards of plastic apron which suddenly decided to take flight.

I did indeed look like the proverbial galleon in full sail.

Sheltering from the storm 

Today remains stormy but more manageable .

Animal Helper Pat, village Leader Ian and Mrs Trellis  stopped by at different times as I was spring cleaning Bluebell. The conversation is still all about Gentleman Farmer Ralph and his funeral. 

We all hoped that he will be brought home before the funeral so that we all can line the lane in respect.

All of us promised that we would tell the other if we heard anything more.

Pat asked me about my “ do” on Sunday and I managed to side step the conversation. 

I told her that the medical tests are in hand, which they are.

The whole subject, however has upset me, I have to be honest 

Anyhow today is Hitchcock studies day and I’ve been cooking a massive concoction of garlic spiced turkey mince with sprouts and potato which is a wonderfully tasty low fat version of corned beef hash, a dinner that will keep me going for days.

I also framed a sweet embroidered blackbird, a work of art bought from a fellow blogger which arrived today and hung it on the art wall. It has a charm all of its own . 

I will leave you with this I sing The Body Electric 

Wanting Memories

Our on line choir listened to this together tonight 

we were all moved by it and will sing it when we are eventually together

It’s been a year since we all met last

Tonight was

Twenty or so souls singing together in our living rooms, and offices and spare rooms.

It’s been a strange few days

Gravy Hands

Mortified. 

I fainted as I was eating my lunch at work today.

I’ve never fainted in my life.

Woke up with strong arms around me and faces next to mine with no idea of what happened.

My hands were covered in gravy.

I’ve come home for a sleep

Mortified.

My friend Ben described the experience thus on social media

“  John told us that vimto was an acronym of vomit then he fainted, then he put his hands in his dinner. I gave him a cuddle and he came around.” 

Lasagne Therapy

 

I’ve been a bit “ out of sorts “ this past week. I know I have and I’m sick of being up and down like the proverbial whores’ knickers ......

I fell asleep in my office covered in dogs and cat yesterday afternoon only to wake in the dark of the evening, disorientated and heady...

I even missed the Big Gay Quiz which usually bucks me up with an overdose of camp one liners.

Subsequently I didn’t sleep and spent too long and too much energy on a french zombie movie called 

The Night Eats The World.

The film had its “ hero” locked inside his Parisian apartment for much of the plot where he slowly went a bit unhinged as the zombie hoards surrounded him.....a untimely metaphor for lockdown I guess.

The constant bickering in the household has had its effect too as had my subsequent move to a new role in the community at work. A move which will mean less unsocial hour pay.......pay that I need but the new role ( overseeing hospice care given at home ) is a challenge that will be good for me .

So bra straps hiked to their shortest twang, it’s onwards and upwards today.

The cottage window ps are wide open even though it’s only 6 degrees outside and I am cooking like a demon.

I made cauliflower soup this morning and will pop it to Ralph’s wife when it has cooled, and am in the middle of constructing a massive lasagne  from scratch which my bubble friend Ruth and I will demolish a bit later.

It’s as low fat as you can make a giant lasagne and I am serving it with a Spanish salad and a crisp white Campo Viejo the wine the Santa Maria always served in Sitges.

We will watch that drag queen film later which is the best recipe for a light mood since I last dreamt than Russell Crowe was my boyfriend at my sisters wedding! ...now that WAS A CRACKING DREAM!!

The giant final lasagne

Eva Cassidy - Over The Rainbow

The best ......

We all need to subscribe ....that one day skies are and will be ............blue .....

Almost there....

The Boys Are Back In Town

 The Llandudno goats have come back into town......

It’s the bachelor groups that have left the Orme

The females with their kids are safely hidden away on the peninsular 

The hospice is taking advantage of their births

https://stdavidshospice.org.uk/product/dewi-soft-goat-toy/

Fields Of Gold

This morning I took Mary and Trendy Carol’s dog, Bengi to the groomers. Both are well trained in car travel and sit  on the back seat like statues. 

It was a pleasure to be out without the usual bouncing hysterics from Dorothy 

I wouldn’t be without her, but looking after a dog with their own unique issues can be a challenge at times.

The above video is an example of Dorothy’s odd, and needy behaviour when out walking in a group. She is totally ignoring the other dog that was playfully sitting on the sidelines as well as Chic Eleanor who was watching with some interest nearby.

Her focus lies totally with me and totally me, which can be exhausting at times, for both of us, but I can see areas where her confidence is improving which is encouraging.

I dropped a neat bunch of smart tulips off at Gentleman Ralph’s farm with a card. 

There is a strange paralysis people experience when visiting the very newly bereaved and even with my experiences within the hospice , I am not immune to the do I knock? Do I just leave the flowers on the doorstep dilemma? 

I left them on the doorstep   

The farmhouse was quiet.

I dropped Benji off, picked up a doe-eyed Dorothy and came home and prepared lentil and Chorizo soup in the slow cooker. Then the dogs, Albert and I made ourselves comfortable in my office in the East wing which I already made comfortable and warm.

I have some writing and some film scene watching to do for my film studies course 

But all I have completed so far it this blog, listened to Eva Cassidy , drank coffee from my striped bucket cup and watched the world go by , in the lane , a lane that snakes up to the church in a lazy s

Ralph, The Gentleman Farmer

This evening the Trelawnyd warden’s group let the village know that Gentleman Farmer Ralph had died tragically this morning. 

I had only seen him a day or so ago.

I had been walking the dogs around 6am before work. 

He was driving to the garage to collect his paper.

He stopped briefly to ask how I was and we laughed that despite wearing figure hugging PPE at work I was still the size of a house. 

He told me to start keeping animals on the field again in way of extra exercise.

The quietly spoken Ralph and his wife Lywenna are much loved and respected in Trelawnyd...this blog entry from 2019 perhaps underlines his kindness 

“

Gentleman farmer Ralph

Most of my regular readers will know that I live on a small lane.
The lane snakes out of the village to the south West and turns at a house and then two farms before moving away across the Valley floor.
In the second farm lives Gentleman Farmer Ralph and his gracefully polite wife Mrs L, and this morning they both stopped to pass over a Christmas Card and a couple of gifts.
I love the pragmatism of the farmer's gifts
Handed over the kitchen wall as so many gifts have been  over the years,
Was a very large lamb chop
A Christmas Card
And a high viz jacket !

Since I started work at the hospice I take Mary for a walk around 6 am in the morning and at that time Ralph drives to the village shop for his paper!
" You never wear something light in the lane" he quipped " I am worried that one day I'm going to run over you!" 

I will pop some flowers up to Lywenna tomorrow  and some homemade soup on Saturday.