Across the Irish Sea

 This ferry lark is all a bit new to me.

Ok I’ve enjoyed the Manley Ferry in Sydney and years ago I was drenched and frozen on the Seattle ferry over Puget Sound but I’ve never taken my car on one of the new Ferries who boast everything all singing and all dancing.

I’ve yet to find the calming hygge lounge but the public rooms seem spacious and well designed and I love the sound proof boxes set aside for small children to run amok in. 

Every home should have one

The skies were somewhat bleak in Holyhead when I got to the ferry , but boarding was painless enough.

I probably won’t have time to blog again, until tomorrow. 

It should take four hours to drive down to Kenmare and this, my second trip , I am very much looking forward to. 

My first trip was four years ago, and was organised by Nu as a diversion after my husband left me. 

I can’t remember much of the trip except the quietness of her cottage and the beauty of Kenmare. 

I was very bruised and battered emotionally and all I needed then was her quiet company and a bit of sun on my face.

I am a third of the way across the Irish Sea and the sun has just come out as I type, a good omen me thinks .

Tonight I will join Nu and her hubby Jim and her extended family for dinner. I’ve known many of them for as long as I’ve known her , so I’m prepared for the noise.

Tomorrow I will explore Kenmare again before Nu’s party tomorrow evening

The party will be craic as many of Nu’s Liverpudlian/ Irish friends will be there 

They are exhausting and  energising all in the same breath and loudly refer to me as Jonney Gray! Or by my old and somewhat perplexing nickname of cheese and chives ( this is far too long to explain) 

I love them dearly 

I shall also be meeting up with an old friend from ITU and her husband who was a consultant there who have retired only a few miles from Kenmare. I put them in touch with Nu a while ago and they will be coming to the party too..

It’s a small world.

A Little Adventure

 Tomorrow I’m embarking on a little adventure

I’m catching the ferry to Ireland for the weekend. 

Not only that , but I am driving Bluebell 350 miles to Kenmare in County Kerry to meet with Nu and her family and friends at her yearly party there. 

I’ve booked myself into a lovely farm Airbnb just outside the town where, I’m told scones and jam will be waiting.

I’m a little nervous as it’s a new experience for me 

Toilet Training

 Roger has had a good day 

Four pees outside 

And a solid hour watching Eastenders and the start of Repair Shop

Pompous

 Like some people who have their insecurities I can be pompous at times.

My mother would occasionally sneer and say You love the sound of your own voice, you do.

Something, ironically that would increase my insecurities as a child.

I was in the supermarket this morning and passed one of the staff, in an aisle. 

She was a smiley, attractive middle aged woman.

She caught my eye and chirped “ You’re from Sheffield arnt you?”

I preened a bit and laughed “ Do you remember me ?”I said, thinking she must have a good memory of me or perhaps she was a blog reader who suddenly recognised me 

We stood looking at each other , smiling for a second 

Then she pointed at my T-shirt 

Before walking off

My Laburnum

 

When I remember, I go over to the churchyard with a watering can to give “my” laburnum a good soak

I’m too lazy to walk up the lane and up to the Lych gate, so I climb up the field gate, and stand on the gate post then crawl over the top of the wall, pushing the watering can in front of me.

It’s not dignified but it’s quicker.

I always fill the rabbit drinker first, then water my tree which is doing well 

As I finished I heard a voice say something I didn’t catch and I turned to see two women walkers sitting on the bench outside the Church. 

They were eating a picnic.

“ I’m sorry ? “ I said 

It was the older woman that spoke and she asked if the tree was a memorial to a relative.

I told her that it wasn’t but had been a replacement for a giant laburnum which had been blown over a few years ago

“ And you water it regularly ? “ she asked

“I feel responsible for it” I replied 

The woman, as it turned out was a Lecturer in History in Dundee University and was completing the pilgrim way across the a north Wales Coast. They were on the last leg of their journey to Holywell which is around 7 miles to the East.

She seemed well versed in everything

“ In folklore Dreaming of laburnum blooms is a prediction that you will overcome adversity through rigorous effort” the woman told me “ But never give the blooms as a gift” she added 

“ I know they are poisonous “ I replied 

“No the message in the giving is that the recipient is forsaken “ she replied

Bowl

 

My sister Janet has made Roger a glazed food bowl at pottery and dropped it off this afternoon when I was snoozing before nights. 

It’s rather handsome

I won’t show the reading glasses thoughtfully delivered by Amazon roughly at the same time as they are tiny and make me look like a caricature of a Japanese WW2 soldier.

I’m watching Hitchcock’s Lifeboat with a bucket of coffee before nights

Chasing Bees

 

It’s been an ordinary day here in Trelawnyd so far.

No big shakes.

No excitement .

I’ve planned not to be too far from a loo today, so after a walk this morning.

I’ve been reading People Person by Candice Carty-Williams on the trendy blue sofa, which catches the morning sun and acts as a border to the windowsill plants clustered with their leaves and stems in the warm light.

Sundays are often like this now.

Quiet

Sun filled.

The dogs are in the kitchen where they have access to the garden. 

Roger is not housetrained and only after outdoor wees is allowed into the rest of the cottage

I can hear him galloping around the kitchen table before bouncing onto the patio and up the garden path.

He’s been busy at this for a while now.

Intrigued, I put my book down and walk through the cottage. Mary and Dorothy are asleep in the reading chair. Albert is on the window sill looking out into the garden.

And Roger? 

Well Roger is gleefully bouncing up and down the path 

Chasing Bees away from the flower tops 

I was reminded of this post from a few years ago now

https://disasterfilm.blogspot.com/2018/12/sweet-william.html

Village Business

 I have been a member of the Trelawnyd Community Association for a few years now, but my involvement has been limited due to the fact I have worked full time and worked shifts. 

Going part time, was originally designed for me to start  my counselling course, but just as nature abhors a vacuum a few village bases projects need a pair of hands and I’ve been conscripted back into the fold so to speak. 

This lunchtime I went to a TCA meeting and said my piece on a pressing matter. 

It’s a nice group all told , perhaps a good dozen and a half people with the community’s well being at heart. 

I’m working on a web page relating to the historic well that used to stand on Well Street ( duh) and have taken photographs today of the newly refurbished pond which lies next to its site. 

The velvet Voiced Linda and I are helping to organise an open evening for the pond so that the village can learn of its existence and and perhaps help contribute to its aquatic planting costs

Ma Manly was at the meeting, she has glorious long white hair which twirled around her head in the breeze like a demon as we talked in the street. She is another of the amateur village historians, much more talented than I in unearthing information of note about Trelawnyd . I asked if she would contribute to my history blog and offered her free rein to the website to do so. 

Her daughter , Kelda runs the folk nights in the Hall.

I photographed the pond and the well  then went to Linda & Nick’s cottage for coffee and scones ( with jam) with some of the others where we gossiped for a while.

This part of community life is nice . 

It’s not always so peaceful , as any minor village politician will tell you, 

But it’s home .

Roger Update

Roger is doing well 

Of course he is, he’s an affable fellow with no edge to him at all.

Within a day Albert and he had an understanding and apart from the occasional botty lick they have left each other alone. 

Mary as expected is his pal of sorts and has already “ taught” him to walk on a lead and feel relaxed in the car. They sleep together in the kitchen she on the reading chair, him in his crate.

I’ve had peaceful nights because of it.

Surprisingly, the Diva Dorothy has been patient so far. Lots of growls and moans when he comes too near but nothing followed through as Roger just doesn’t react to her warnings. 

He skips past her like a 50 s schoolgirl, gauche and a bit clumsy,

oblivious to any upset or slight he may of caused.

Think Joyce Grenfell in St Trinians 

NHS

 My relationship as a patient with the nhs has been, thankfully, a short one. 

In sixty years I have only used the hospital system a few times for more minor conditions and with the exception of some temperamental behaviour from one GP and an incredibly snide call handler my experiences have in the main been exemplary. 

The GP, I saw face to face , so I could handle his pomposity with some assertive “ Do you talk to all your patients this way?”

Working in a large Yorkshire Teaching hospital where nurses stood no shit from anyone, grounds you when you come across senior doctors who think they are mini Gods. 

Back in the 1980s nurses were more, hummmmm ….. gobby?

The call handler, I have subsequently pieced together was either fired or left his job. His supervisor blandly tried to smooth over the cracks of his behaviour by saying he doesn’t work for the department anymore.

I had rang his department to book an urology appointment which had been cancelled by the hospital due to unforeseen circumstances . While I was waiting for him to give me a new appointment , I could clearly hear the whole conversation his colleague was having with another patient. When he returned to the phone , I told him so , and said I was concerned about confidentiality. 

The chap, non verbally shrugged and said Well you won’t know the person and what they were talking about . 

That comment went down like a pork chop in a synagogue

What followed was an interesting debate between gobshite ( me) and bored phonehandler (him) and sensing I was not going to get anywhere with him I just asked him to sort out my phone interview with the urologist . 

He gave me an appointment eight weeks later

On that afternoon , no urologist rang.

No appointment had indeed been made or registered. 

I had been documented as a cancel 

My kidneys are bad today. 

I could have done with that appointment. My subsequent one is very soon

But it’s been an age waiting

Im seriously thinking of going against all my homegrown principles and simply going private

I am reminded of an odious neurologist who once visited my ward to assess a patient who was said to be in a persistent vegetative state. The , patient, a young boy seemed to be reacting to certain stimuli though we couldn’t be sure and the doctor was called to allay the fears of the staff who understandably were troubled by what they saw. 

The consultant was brusque, rude and imposing when he asked the boys nurse what she thought, and I remember the difficulty which the nervous and inarticulate nurse had when trying to explain her worries

We examined the patient and afterwards the consultant confirmed his original diagnoses referring to the request to review as stupid and emotional bordering on the histrionic!

He looked at me , the nurse in charge, for affirmation 

“ Well You’re  a bit of an arsehole” 

Was all I could manage

People Day

 It’s a kind of I’m fed up of people day today

Someone I like and respect has taken something I’ve said in such the wrong way I’ve been rendered practically speechless. 

Of course I’m not speechless and I’ve replied with candour and surprise and have apologised even though I am 100% sure it’s a case of over sensitivity and misinterpretation .

I remain vaguely insulted by the whole situation.

My ghoster eventually replied too, with the sentence I just feel there is nothing on my side. He also asked if we could keep in touch. I’ve told him no but I wished him well.

Both situations have left a bad taste in my mouth.

I’ve just been out walking Roger too and got shouted at by a man on a bike who felt I was in his way 

I was but Roger was too frightened to move 

Training Day

Roger needs a settling in day today. 

The household needs one.

He has no experience of cars and little of being walked on a lead , so that was our first job this morning after his restful night in his crate in the kitchen with Mary sleeping in the reading chair next to him

He hasn’t got a clue with the lead so I left it slack and let Dorothy gallop in front.

With her circulating back and running past him, he soon got the idea that walking forward was the plan  and although our progress was stilted, it was a start.

He hasn’t eaten much, but that doesn’t concern me as he happily ran off with a toast crust earlier and has spent the rest of his time copying the others when they have run out to the kitchen wall to greet Jo ( without her Great Dane) and Islwyn who had come to collect the old washing machine with his brother Eric

Trefor called too, but was too anxious to acknowledge the new guy, he’s got worries about British Telicom 

Which I managed to sort out.

When the Amazon delivery man came ,Roger  joined in with the barking more dutifully than not, and when Albert appeared from his feline slumbers at noon, he made a point of backing up five steps to allow the cat space to reach his food bowl on the windowsill 

He’s brighter than William but seems to have William’s gentlemanly  nature, politely ignoring Dorothy’s regular low growls of mild irritation when he ables too close 

He is presently sat at my feet, next to the kitchen table 

He smells  of his old  kennel so we will all be going into the shower together later.

He’s never walked up a house staircase before either, another skill he will learn shortly when the dogs follow me up in order to watch me make the bed.

I call him by his name frequently and cuddle him as soon as he comes to me 

In typical Welsh style he crossed his front paws around my arm to hold me firm.

I am so happy with him 

The guy I dated eleven days ago has ghosted me which is a shame. 

His loss. 

I’m an acquired taste,

I know that

I’m cleaning out drawers today. Gently pottering as Roger finds his feet 

Roger

 

Six months old and with the typical calm, watching nature of a Welsh Terrier. I picked Roger up today from Nottingham as if I’ve known him for years.

Not a silly puppy anymore , he is a careful old soul who has walked into a household complicated by a bulldog’s Diva baggage, Mary’s squeaky duck and his very first cat. 

So far so good . 

Albert received some half arsed woofs then faced him off on the bottom stair, forcing Roger to back off after looking at the other dogs for their "surprising" non reaction.

Now, only an hour later, they are passing each other in the kitchen doorway like regular commuters going to work.

Dorothy staked her claim immediately and lay on the couch with her head on my knee and growled half heartedly when Roger ambled by busy at sniffing the carpet. 

Mary ignored him after their initial interaction but is watching him at all times through the corner of her eye. 

I pretended not to watch

And let out a large held breath

It’s caught me a little by surprise 

But he looks the spitting image of Old William 

I wonder if he will gleefully chase bees around the garden?

Asleep at 20.30

I’m holding my breath again 

Roger now on my knee next to a sleeping Dorothy 

20.49 pm

Jesus! 

For Debby no!!!!! I mean Lizzy

 Sunday has been a productive day .

After a brief sleep, my brother-in-law came round to help me install my new washing machine. 

( not the easiest job in the world as it turned out) 

The humidity here is 65% , so we were dripping by the time it was up and running with my undercrackers leaping in soapy happy circles.

My brother in law has been a godsend to our entire family over the years as he’s one of those men who can turn his hand to anything practical and I’ve always been very grateful for his consistent smiling support over the years. 

This afternoon , the old washing machine my husband bought is now waiting for the village scrap iron man on the patio and the new all singing all dancing computer confusing washer is working perfectly 

I popped a gift of a litre of nice gin and some internet bought gin glasses to him at teatime 

The glasses were made in Spain which is apt.

I will leave you with some photos of my living room , especially for Debby

And as promised , I haven’t  tidied  up.

I’ve already bought and paid for new carpets for the cottage but these won’t be laid until late September. A few weeks to allow for Roger’s bladder to be  trained by the girls me thinks …..the same carpet will run into every room including the bedrooms

Then the cottage will be finally finished for the time being.

I’m picking him up at 11 am from Alfreton 

His purchase will signal a twenty year relationship with his breeder and from what I understand will probably be my last chance to buy a dog from her which is a poignant thought.

Roger will be my last terrier ….and one of a long line of lovely dogs …Finlay, Maddie, Meg, William, George, and Mary

I’ll Leave The Landing Light On…..

 

Someone I know, has had cancer recently diagnosed.

A mutual friend told me. 

It wasn’t a secret. 

I messaged them and simply said I had met my friend, nothing more

and the link was made

The ball was in their court and we messaged briefly about it

“ I’m here” I said

I know you are” came the reply. 

Sometimes too many words can be said at times like these. 

A Card, a cooked meal, the offer of a silent walk, a theatre ticket 

Can support someone who is hurting just as well.

The offer of taking Mary for a cuddle 

A book of poems with a bright orange cover, 

A crisp 10 dollar bill with the  instructions of buying an ice cream.

I remember bedtime as a seven year old 

Who was always frightened of the dark. 

A simple action,

A single promise always made things better

“ I’ll leave the landing light on “ 

Hot Afternoon

 Yesterday I met some friends from the village to discuss planning an open day for the new pond. It was a case of mixing work with pleasure as the meeting took place in a dappled green garden under the trees, with wine glasses and beers in our hands.

It’s felt that my holiday has just been extended by several days .

I’ve agreed to help manage the Flower Show again and next year it ( as well as the novelty vegetable photograph competition so enjoyed by blog readers ) shall return. 

It felt the right thing to do.

Last night I caught up with my family again for a Spanish supper in my sister in law’s garden. 

It was her first dinner party post lockdown, another milestone for her, and a pleasure for us as she cooks very well. 

So today is a non day as I’m working a single shift tonight.

It’s far too hot to walk the dogs more than 100 yards which makes Dorothy listless and sulking.

I’ve already sat her under a cold shower earlier and now she smells of body shop pink Grapefruit soap but is still unhappy at not being able travel in the car.

I gave her the meat from a left over lamb chop in an effort to buck her up but that failed miserably 

Roger arrives on Monday

I wonder what that little bombshell will have on the bulldog diva.

To Kill A Mockingbird

 

I met Nu in a cocktail bar on Frith Street (she had picked it as it was air conditioned) we then went along to Suvvlaki the best Greek restaurant in soho where we ate Greek tapas to die for , sat at an open window facing the street and watched the world go by.

I still felt as though was on holiday

We walked into Chinatown where we ate obscene ice creams at bubble wrap waffle before the theatre

Bliss

Most of us of a certain age have grown up with the goodness that is Atticus Finch in To Kill A Mocking Bird, 

His quote 

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

is one that follows a person through life, even though he was a fictitious lawyer in a non existent Southern town.

To Kill A Mocking Bird was not without its faults and I wondered how these would be addressed to a modern audience, most of whom loved the book as a child and saw it through a child’s eyes.

Aaron Sorkin’s production is a bold interpretation with the famous court scene divided into segments sandwiched in between the growing up stories of Scout and Jem Finch and their best friend Dil in rural Alabama.

Rafe Spall is no Gregory Peck in the lead role as Atticus. He isn’t polished and serene, and hasn’t that quiet heroic look.But his small town lawyer, is gentle, and humorous and brittle enough to still cry at the mention of his wife’s death. He is more flawed that his screen counterpart, but still retains those decent qualities most loved by Harper Lee’s fans.

The three children of the story are all played by young adults, and this works well thanks  primarily to the actors playing Scout and Dill. Gwyneth Keyworth is exceptional as Scout, ad-libbing with the audience in her broad Southern drawl when they were late in settling down and David Moost, who gives Dill an odd sense of a young, very camp Truman Capote ( he was Harper Lee’s Best friend) 

In the novel the housekeeper come nanny, Calpurnia didnt quite have a proper voice when the unfairness of racism was raised but Sorkin’s Calpurnia is not adverse in challenging even Atticus in his beliefs and behaviour and in one pivitol scene screams out what she thinks of the all white Jury who are sitting in judgement of Robinson ( a wonderful Jude Owusu)

The actress Pamela Nomvete turning from hired help to a roaring lioness impressively.

The new play has a great deal to say about the America, that still exists , most noticeably seen in the Trump years. Those disaffected and mistrusting of intellectual contact.

To kill A Mockingbird was a triumph , and a real rollercoaster of a play to experience.

It is one which will linger in the mind for a long while to come 

Told Off

 Mrs Trellis told me off this morning for watering the planters in the heat of late morning.

I apologised but told her as I was going to London today it was the only time I could do so.

She pursed her lips 

“ Another holiday? She asked.

I knew she was pissed at me, I can always read the signs now 

She has vocalised before that sometimes I leave the dogs too often with Trendy Carol and her hubby

I reminded her that I was only away overnight

A treat for my birthday.

She pulled the brim of  her white laced sun hat down and walked on with a warning “ Keep out of the sun”

The girls down at Trendy Carol’s barked their welcome at the garden gate and she stopped to coo at them

I hate being in Mrs Trellis’ bad books

It’s like being told off by a favourite aunt

She reminds me of Calpurnia, Atticus Finch’s housekeeper in some ways

 “She’s a faithful member of this family and you’ll simply have to accept things the way they are...Besides, I don’t think the children have suffered one bit from her having brought them up. If anything, she’s been harder on them in some ways than a mother would have been… she’s never let them get away with anything”

I took her advice and dressed in shorts and T shirt I’m sat on the train southwards. Apparently it’s 90 degrees in the capital so shorts will have to do for the Theatre 

I’m not staying with Nu in West London but have booked the Z Hotel in Covent Garden

I need to be back home earlyish tomorrow as there’s a meeting about the village pond I promised to go to

God it's hot in London . Found a gay bar with outside seating for a beer. 

Just waiting for Nu

The Seekers - Georgy Girl (1967 - Stereo)

RIP Judith 

Chill

 

The sun and heat and occasional dousing by warm Mediterranean salt water has done great guns with my psoriasis knees , so much so that Dorothy actually looked disappointed when she gleefully tried to chop down on one when I eventually sat down on the couch after sleeping and housework and watering the garden and dropping round to give Old Trevor  some advice on analgesia.

This is the time when I don’t miss being in a relationship.

It’s lovely to be just me and the animals

I’m weary after my night shift coming so close to travelling back from Spain , so I’m mooching for the rest to the day.

Tomorrow I go to London

I’ve bought garlic doughballs for supper and a small box of Mac and cheese bites and after a dusk walk will drink my last beer and watch the hit Prey on Disney +

And share my supper with the girls