Cushions

 Mrs Trellis caught me hanging my underpants on the garden bushes this morning. 

I don’t need a washing line as I tend to wash small loads at 30 degrees.

I tell you this as a bit of fluffing.

She was walking Blue who has matured into a calm elderly greyhound with a graceful neck, and as Mrs Trellis has shrunk a little with age , I always think that when she walks him he resembles a large alpaca rather than a dog, so noticeable the change in height.

I asked her how old Blue was and she told me that he was eleven .

“He looks good” I told her 

“ He eats what I eat “ she told me as way as an explanation 

“He had porridge for breakfast”

I met chic Eleanor for brunch which was lovely ( the meeting not the food) and caught up with her news. 

I haven’t seen her for a couple of months and she looked relaxed and radiant 

We arranged to go out for dinner with some mutual friends soon.

And that’s about it for today so far.

I popped to see my sister, bought some nice cushions from TK MAX and did grocery shopping, 

I also washed the dog throws and hung them in the sun on the field gate, watered my laburnum and walked the dogs twice, both times holding three leads in one hand!

Blogger is playing up again 

Square Eyes

 Managed to get to the Community Council meeting at the Hall tonight to co represent the community Association support for the hall.

Got home as it was getting dark after the meeting 

It’s been a nice sunny relaxing day 

Roger is watching Master Chef tonight

He’s a total tv addict 

Ram Dressed As Lamb

 I’m in the middle of a night’s overtime

I supposed to be saving for the electric direct debit hike due very soon.

Total false economy 

Just bought these on line from Harlow & Lloyd

I’ve message a friend in the states who I know would be up and around 

He sent a brief message back 

Ram dressed as lamb

The “Dont Hurt Him” Conversation

 I still listen to The Archers and will occasionally refer to the long standing radio show here, when certain subjects of interest raise their heads over the mundane.

Last night matriarch Jill ( 91 year old Patricia Greene) was having a bit of a heart to heart with her grandson’s twenty something girlfriend over a quiche.

Now I am the first to say that The Archers can at times be incredibly heavy handed and prescriptive, and to be honest that is part of its charm, I feel, but last night I felt the scene between old lady and young woman had a certain poignancy about it.

Only last month , it was broadcasted that Green was leaving the soap after playing the velvet voiced Jill for over 57 years. No reason rather than retirement was cited, but it was clear to me by listening to the change in the actress’ voice that she was frail and probably rather unwell. 

The scene she was playing revolved around a huge circle in the Archer’s storyline. In the 1950s Jill entered the soap as the lead’s second wife, a city girl, who was morphed into being a country farmer wife and last night’s scene had Jill discussing life with city girl Beth ( Rebecca Fuller) who is her favourite grandson’s girlfriend.

The scene was unhurried and full of gentle pathos with Green’s rasping vocals adding an extra depth to the scene and when eventually Jill turned to Beth and said “ You Won’t hurt him will you?” I was suddenly reminded of a similar, intense conversation from decades ago now.

My grandmother was long dead when I started courting. My mother was never privy to any partners I ever had, but I remember my elder sister meeting my husband to be many years ago now, a meeting she realised for the first time that I had decided that he was a “ keeper”

Just before we drove away from that first family meal, I remember her leaning into the car and saying to my boyfriend with a smile but in a low and rather serious voice. “ Don’t ever hurt him, or you will have me to deal with!”

It was a message , I know he never forgot, for I think it was the first time anyone had spoke to him in such a way.

And It was a message I never forgot also.

Having that matriarch in my corner .

Ladies View

I’m glad I made the effort to go to Nu’s party

I’m glad for so many reasons .

Of course seeing her, Jim and her family and friends, many who I consider as my friends for years , was the driving force for the trip 

But I also really wanted to push myself out of my ever comfortable comfort zone by driving the length and breadth of Ireland on my own .

To some , this may not sound too stressful.

A little arduous, perhaps but not stressful, 

But I must admit, for me it was! 

I’m always envious of friends such as Rachel (https://racheldubois.blogspot.com/) who seem happy and comfortable travelling all over the world by themselves. 

I’ve never done it, so I felt I needed to push myself with a series of firsts

Taking my Car on a ferry for the first time and navigating a new country was two firsts 

Ok it was Ireland 

But this morning I was the only car driving down the magnificent Ring of Kerry from the awesome Moll’s Gap

I was the only person at Ladies view , watching deer cross the road in front of me

And it was a first  for me to pass the glorious St Mary’s cathedral Killarney where I stopped for a full Irish breakfast at a delightful cafe, where the owner gave me a sandwich , for nothing “ to eat on my way” as she said it’s a far drive for you ! 

But now that I’m home, somewhat tired I must say I feel just a little proud that I’ve finally done it.

The Party

I won’t post photo after photo of merry partygoers, suffice to say that the afternoon and evening was paced and good humoured and full of friends old and new.

The bus picked everyone up from Kenmare square at three and dropped us off at Nu’s cottage not long after and she was there like the Queen at the gate to greet her guests. 

We drank gin and ate delish extra thin pizza freshly baked straight from the oven and talked bollocks until 9pm when the bus returned and everyone hit the lights of Kenmare’s pubs.

I got off the bus early and went back to my Airbnb.

I’m driving back this morning and couldn’t face another late night.

I slept well in my bed 

And this morning have just drank my bucket of coffee and ate the last of my scones

 It’s been a lovely weekend all told 

Scones for Breakfast

I hit Kenmere running. 

I knew I would. 

My sat nav crashed in Dublin port and I had to wing finding my way to Nu’s, so late I arrived at my own spotless little Airbnb apartment at Mrs O’Sheas for only a few minutes, before being picked up by the affable Brian, ( the designated driver for the day) and whisked to a lovely restaurant with Nu and family.

The rest of the evening was, to be honest a loud bit of a blur with more mutual friends and their grown up kids joining the fray at a bar which would not look lost in The Commitments.

The party proper starts around 3 pm today when a bus stops in the square to pick everyone up and takes them to Nu’s cottage, so I have a bit of time to go into Kenmare and have a mooch. 

As promised Mrs O’Shea has left me some of her scones ( tied Auntie Glad style on the doorknob) so  you can Have something with your tea

 I dozed after my breakfast then walked down to Kenmare Pier 

And listened to the gulls diving for fish in the bay

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!