Egg and Soldiers

 

Sometimes you get a craving for the food of your childhood

Of butterscotch Angel Delight,

Beans on cheap white bread toast with lashings of butter

Or corned beef hash.

Fruit cocktail out of a tin with only half a cherry, 

Artic roll,

And lucozade with the orange film wrapping.

Neapolitan  ice cream

Evaporated milk mixed with the juice of tinned mandarin oranges,

Coca Cola in glass bottles

Custard with skin

And semolina in school only made bearable by a blob of raspberry jam

Cheese triangles with the ends bitten off and the cheese sucked through.

Full fat ice cold milk

Tonight I had a lightly boiled egg 

And soldiers 

Arse

 

I’m an arse

I’ve been caught speeding again. This time 57 in a 50 zone. 

My fault it was after night shift.

I’ve now set up my sat nav at all times

It reminds me when I’m going too fast

Little else to report. 

The pace of the last few days has changed to a welcomed and silent coffee at the kitchen table.

Albert is happy we are home

By the look of the white duvet cover on my bed he looks as though he’s been making snow angels 

Night shift tonight

Kew

 Now I know Kew Gardens well, it’s a favourite place for me and Nu to go and talk as we amble down the avenues of trees , through the glass houses and by the lakes.

On a beautiful day it’s especially impressive , and doubly so given the scorching high temperatures we’ve been experiencing recently.

Kew has been on Janet’s bucket list for ages , so it was nice for her to tick the box so to speak .

She was up in the hot house platforms like a whippet , with me in tow , but as I really don’t do heights , I refused the tree top walk ( next photo) as 60 feet is out of my play zone.

We met Nu for lunch , then tired weary but contented we jumped on the surprise surprise delayed Avanti Westcoast train home.

London

 

It was a busy day yesterday as Janet wanted to jam in as many tourist things as possible .

Breakfast was coffee and something tasty on the hoof , then a round Robin walk, South Bank, Westminster Bridge, Parliament and Embankment .

We caught a tube to Kensington, enjoyed the Beatrix Potter exhibition and tried not to get over faced with the exhibits. My favourites were Samson Slaying a Philistine by Giambologna and Tippo’s Tiger- the automaton organ from 18th century india

I briefly showed Janet dippy the dinosaur at the National History Museum before we returned to Covent Garden for an early dinner at The Ivy, which was excellent I must admit.

A brief drink later, then it was The Lion King at The Lyceum before an amble back to the hotel.

Today, we are off to Kew Gardens then lunch with Nu 

It’s been good

London

 Lovely to see London through my sister’s eyes

She’s a new visitor 

A great night, meal in Covent Garden , soho bars and Chinatown 

Trains and Mistakes

 

Breakfast table 

Bucket of coffee time. 

I’ve just read my sister’s Facebook entry for today. 

She’s posted the itinerary I put into her Birthday Card and said she was was looking forward to the break

That pleased me no end.

We leave for London this afternoon, a day earlier than planned .

I can thank he RMT strike for the extra day

Fingers crossed the journey in uneventful .

Another coffee…I have time

Just recently I have been thinking of how to deal with someone who sporadically but ,consistently seems to enjoy pointing out my mistakes. 

At first I thought it was me being over sensitive as I’m fully aware of the legacy being a child of critical parents can leave with a person,  but after some feedback from others I realised that this friend, through whatever reason does feed on the mistakes others make too, and is in fact well known for the behaviour

I’ve ignored the comments until recently, but during a conversation they inappropriately reminded me of something I did wrong from over a year ago now!, and did so with a chuckle. 

I stopped my inner child from reacting.

It’s easy to bark back at a snappy dog and with a presence of mind , on reflection I was pleased with

I said simply and quietly “ That comment hurt my feelings “ 

I said nothing else and rode out the short embarrassed silence that followed by thinning my lips and raising my eyebrows in a kind of There Ive said it expression before leaving the situation unrushed.

All of us are often very adapt at saying nothing in situations like these, and I include myself very much in this statement as I can often pick up someone else’s criticism and negativity and carry it around like a badge.

This time I didn’t, and I am glad I didn’t even though it’s easier to say nothing and curl your toes in irritation.

Joni Mitchell “Both Sides Now” with Brandi Carlile Live at Newport Folk ...

This sort of broke my heart a little but uplifted it too

Tula Tula

 A new normal has begun me thinks. 

Travel chaos seems to springing up in hotspots. 

Covid has reached another hidden peak 

And The Archers have finally returned to their Friday night, 7 pm slot.

I listened to The Archers with interest last night ( For those that perhaps don’t know , The Archers is a radio 4;soap opera which has been running nightly ( except Saturdays) since 1951. It airs for under fifteen minutes a night and centres upon the farming community of Ambridge located in the Midlands) 

During the programme, the only Welsh character Natasha ( Mali Harries) has brought her newly born twins home with clueless husband Tom. Whilst the usual banal banter continued ,Natasha and her mother sang a lullaby ( Suo Gân)to the twins in Welsh, the two woman harmonising quite beautifully.

It proved to be a rather sweet moment of gentle drama and pathos in a soap, not always known for its subtly and it’s nostalgia and sense of place can be described well by the welsh word Hiraith

Recently one of our more serious and devout nurses left the hospice and I remember her gently singing the Welsh Hymm Dros Gymru’n Gwlad alongside a patient who was approaching end of life. The music to the hymn is well known to me as we sing a version of it it choir. Sibelius’ Finlandia, but there is something magic and somewhat humbling when you hear someone else sing it out, without embarrassment of self doubt.

Years ago, and I mean perhaps, twenty five years I remember watching one of the African nurses singing a lullaby to a young male patient who couldn’t sleep. The boy was paralysed from the chest down, and was on strict bed rest so she almost knelt at the side of his bed and held his hand, which she  placed under her chin so he could feel the song as well as hear it.

The lullaby was called  Tula Tula and I remember to this day how the busy  ward slowly quietened to silence as everyone, patients and staff, all stopped to listen

Conwy Estuary from Deganwy

It’s not many people that have a full scale medieval castle which dominates an estuary as a view on the way home from work.

I stopped this morning to look at the view.

And felt grateful

A Good Read

 

I’ve read most of the morning 

It’s an indulgence I rarely allow myself during the day, and it’s interesting that I only allowed myself the time to do it once every chore I could think of had already been completed. 

I take after my mother in that respect.

She would only have a drink once all the hoovering had been done

Little Women

 Grosvenor Park Open AirTheatre was holding their version of Little Women tonight

The night the heatwave properly broke and the heavens opened.

But it was fun

My sister and I got incredibly wet

The open air theatre produces bawdy, musical and comic versions of classic novels and reworked Little Women into a 1914 Edwardian Chester drama with the March sisters , working in ammunition factories, nursing soldiers in hospital and with Laurie going off to war in the trenches.

It worked rather well, which is surprising. 

The actors were as soaked as the audience which endeared us, especially to the doomed Beth , who slipped and fell flat on her face on stage just before her death.

A death which was incredibly moving , given the lightness of the production.

I’ve always remembered her matter of fact speech to sister Jo

“ I have a feeling that it never was intended I should live long. I'm not like the rest of you. I never made any plans about what I'd do when I grew up. I never thought of being married, as you all did. I couldn't seem to imagine myself anything but stupid little Beth, trotting about at home, of no use anywhere but there. I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I'm not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven."

You can see the rain

Ive had a nice week…..working sat and sunday  

Prima Facie

 

I’m a bit breathless 

Prima Facie , the filmed play by Suzie Miller has left me thoughtful and somewhat shaken . 

A one woman show, it has Jodie Comer playing, Tessa an incredibly successful criminal barrister in London. Tessa has made good from her working class Liverpudlian roots and by using every trick in her considerable arsenal she has proved herself to be especially adept in defending men in sexual assault cases. Now Tessa clearly proclaims that she always works to prove the legal truth in her cases and this is a game to point out the holes in the prosecutions case and this game is a game she is good at.

However, when she is assaulted herself, by a potential boyfriend who is also a successful barrister, she is left to fight a paternalistic legal system weighted against her as a woman. 

Comer is truly remarkable as Tessa. With real Liverpudlian timing she hits her delivery with true machine gun zeal and that pace is maintained full speed  for two hours straight. 

I couldn’t quite believe she maintained the pace and the emotion throughout 

Stunning.

Quite Stunning

Watering Rabbits

 The thunderstorms which have been promised haven’t materialised. Subsequently the ground is dry as a bone and the grass on the field is like straw, yellow and burnt.

I climbed up the field gate and over the church wall. 

It wasn’t a pretty sight. 

All arse and groaning!!!

I refilled the shallow enamelled dish with water, the one I’d placed out a week ago to water the rabbits, then watered my laburnum which is looking healthy and happy. 

It took the rabbits a few days to feel safe with the dish and it’s satisfying watch them, a whole gaggle of birds and the stray white cat drinking from it, especially at dusk.

The dish, laburnum ( top right) and the historic thirteenth century church prayer cross on the top left

I’ve done a pile of paperwork today. Bought a new washing machine on line and measured the outside of the cottage for the CBM who will be designing a roof for the patio before autumn . 

I’m about the embark on downsizing the spare room which is in drastic need of simplifying . 

I want it streamlined and simple.

Ready for becoming a proper study for September’s course

Ness Gardens

My friend Colin and I met, like two middle class ladies sometimes do , for lunch and a mooch around Ness Gardens .

The place was more or less deserted 

 I bought a white agapanthus from the shop

Epiphany

What’s the pleural of epiphany? 

Whatever the answer maybe, I think I’ve had a succession of “small” epiphanies since my birthday and beyond.

When I really think of it, when life changed after lockdown was the real start of it all.

When I say epiphanies, what I really mean is ideas and thoughts which have flickered like Christmas Tree fairy lights in and out of my consciousness until they figure more importantly than not in everyday life.

Many of these became clearer after my brief break in Findhorn and the age old red letter day of reaching my 60th birthday.

The overall sense of these flickering lights is that I’m now embarking on that final decade(s) of my life and it’s now time for proper change.

My father died in his early sixties, my brother at 58 and I’m very aware of my mortality in real terms 

Now I’m fully aware that since my husband left me, I have built a new life and career for myself from more or less nothing. I am financially more stable than I’ve been for years , I have saved my home and have made a passable social life for myself through and despite covid but things haven’t been quite enough for me. 

There has to be more.

There IS more

Pushing myself mentally and academically is one new start and is an important one for me.

Letting go of nursing is another.

And finally letting go of the old ghosts of my marriage is the final and most vital bit of the jigsaw.

He has gone, and I know why.

The next decade has to change totally.

Mentally, physically and socially and for the first time , in a very very long time in my life 

I’m ready for more change.

Like I said , this could be my last decade 

And only I am in the driving seat 

A Town Like Alice

 

Filmed obviously in 1956 ( continuity forgot to period dress the cast) this little remembered movie of the famous Shute novel proved to be a little hidden gem this morning. Set in Malaya during the war it centres around the plight of a group of English women and children forced to March across the country in search of a prisoner of war camp which will house them.

Marie Lohr as Mrs Dudley Frost

Renee Houston as Ebbey

Virginia McKenna plays the groups pragmatic leader is supported ably by a whole gaggle of British character actors such as Jean Anderson, Marie Lohr, Renee Houston and Nora Nicholson.who play the typical cross section of colonial types later poached by the the series Tenko.

It’s a cracking movie, which steals only part of the novel which really concentrates on the love affair between McKenna’s character and a bravura Australian squaddie Peter Finch who is eventually crucified by a sadistic Japanese Captain Yanyata.

I really enjoyed it and was kind of sad when it finished before midday.

Since then , I’ve just mooched. The dogs are listless and bored in the heat and there are jobs that need doing but I don’t feel like starting anything

I’m making a list of them 

Salad with pomegranate seeds and mango for tea

Choir later

Late Dog Walk

 

Dorothy swam in a river in Dyserth  this evening in an effort to keep cool.

It was almost dark when she dived in with eyes closed

Mary stayed by my side , pursing her lips.

I haven’t been so proud since I attended my ex husbands doctorate graduation 

She swam like a baby hippo, head held high, sharp doggy paddle, big smile on her face 

And it totally made my week, if not my month when she struck out from the bank like a professional.

I never knew the daft old girl could do water like an otter

But she did and like a new dad , it made my day.

And I cried silly tears as she eventually made for shore.

Smiling like a loon

She’s now snoring loudly dripping the blue trendy sofa in water

Chatty Cathy

Bluebell tells be its 95 degrees in old money 

Which is too hot by anyone’s money

Constance

It’s been almost 30 degrees here yesterday and just too hot for bulldogs outside.

This will be a “ Chatty Cathy” kind of blog today.

I took the dogs for an early walk and that will be it until tonight after dusk.

For those that remember Constance ( my first rescue bulldog) they may recall that she died walking on only a mildly warm day. She was an old dog, who had health issues , but the heat could well have been a factor in her death and I will never take that chance again, never

https://disasterfilm.blogspot.com/2011/08/you-give-your-heart-to-dog-to-tear.html

I couldn’t get off to sleep so found a Valium tablet left over from my husband’s  nervous flyer days in the medicine box and slept the sleep of the dead until it was ready for work. I  took magnum ice creams in for day and night staff when I came on duty as a bit of a morale booster and as the hospice has no air con in the patient areas we have set up fans throughout the building corridors which now has a cooling rush of breeze about them.

I am reminded of the convent in Black Narcissus 

It’s all very comfortable if a little breezy.

I was due to collect Roger tomorrow , but it is a long drive to Alfreton and I just knew his breeder would cancel because of the heat . I’ve provisionally rearranged for the 1st of August. She describes him as “ Smart but cuddly”

Now I have five days off……part time status is hitting home just a little. 

Whooooo hooooo

I’ve enrolled in the counselling course which starts in September and have sent all the paperwork off as well as the fees so that’s another box ticked. 

The rest of the week has been organised with my typical and no doubt irritating detail

Choir returns tomorrow , Wednesday it’s Ness Gardens for a mooch and lunch with a friend and Thursday Ive got tickets to the filmed version of Jodie Comer’s hit play Prima Facie 

Friday my sister and I are going to the Grovensor Park Open Air Theatre to see Little Women which will be frothy fun all told.

Check Out

 I get very exasperated at supermarket check outs

I always have.

Women tend to wind me up the most, as it is common for them not to have their payment cards ready when the cashier states the cost of a shop. 

We then have to suffer the whole rigmarole of the where’s my handbag ? face.

The unzipping of the bag, the fishing for the purse and the shuffling for the cards go next and before we can proceed the whole procedure has to bet into reverse before they can start loading bags into trolleys.

I try to look away before any of the dithering starts 

But it’s like a car crash, 

You can’t look away.

Yesterday, I was stood behind an older couple ( 65 perhaps) where she verbalised to her henpecked hubby where every item was to be placed and in which bag. To be honest I only noticed when I caught the cashier’s gaze, who was desperately trying not to smile and conspiratorially we watched the drama unfold until the husband finally offered the wrong bag up for filling and his wife slapped the bag away with her hand

In a fit of pique, the husband waved his arms above his head and stormed off snapping “You cow” leaving the wife to do the where’s my handbag? thing as well as proclaiming I don’t know what’s that all about.

I didn’t look at the cashier until the woman was walking away and we then both burst into giggles 

“ I’m very tired “ the cashier said in way of explanation. “ But that poor man”

We giggled some more.

I tell you this small tale on the back of a now deleted post by Rachel Philips who shared a funny and well written post about how singletons can inflate health worries to Diva- esque levels when they are alone in the house without the constraints and common sense sense of a companion. 

The cashier was the only person I had spoken to all day. 

And therefore the joke, the shared humanity of the altercation 

Was even more important and significant.

The scene between us, a wonderfully timed conspiratorial bit of fun. 

Butterflies

 My sister called yesterday to bash the garden into shape.

We discussed the total absence of honey bees and butterflies on the buddliea bushes in the garden which have just burst into bloom.

I checked each of the three bushes in turn.

Not one pollinator could be seen. 

Their absence has worried me for days now.

Perhaps it’s because today seems warmer, a precursor to the proclaimed horror temperature due on Monday, but this afternoon the bees were back in good numbers and the butterflies, noticeable in ones and twos rather than the dozens I was used to last year.

The back garden buddliea 

At least they’ve started to return. 

I cooked stir fry vegetables and mixed them with udon noodles and hot Korean sauce for supper.

I’m back on nights tonight.