Sunday Night

 The fire is lit and the dogs are all resting, Mary with her rubber Chicken by her side. 

I’ve repainted the fireplace wall today , in the same gentle yellow I did two summers ago , and gone have the soot marks which have so irritated me this year.

I have watched the journey of the Queen’s  coffin and loved the fact that a score of  Aberdeenshire farmers saluted the convoy with their tractors as did the horses and riders from a local livery 

It’s cold and wet outside and no bats flew in the lane at our evening walk

How To Be Amazingly Happy

 My friend Dave ( aka Gorgeous Dave) is a typical straight man when it comes to problems. He is not very good at reaching out for a sympathetic ear, preferring to deal with things internally and on his own.

I met up with him last night and he shared a problem

I was glad to be able to listen and wish he had contacted me earlier.

Interestingly we were off to see a one woman review entitled How To Be Amazingly Happy by Victoria Firth which was showing at the Storyhouse 

It was a lumpy show, amusing and insightful at times and a little pretentious in others but Firth was engaging enough with her northern physical humour very much on show and she had a great deal to say about the pressures , we all feel in today’s society, to be happy and contented all of the time.

Firth’s perspective came from the fact she was a lesbian who was childless but I could relate to the way she tried out different “ lifestyles” in order to boost her mood.  Her vignettes on running, not jogging, joining a tap,dance class and baking cakes for the family were amusing enough, but when she started her childless routine things did get a bit bleak and we were glad to make a run for the bar.

We didn’t stay for the Q & A.

On the way home, I decided a bit of fun was the order of the day and we were both cackling like schoolboys before we got onto the A55 for home. My mother blessed me with the ability to tell a good story and I was happy to be able to have Dave’s cheeks aching before he dropped me off in the village

Food For Thought

 Thursday also turned out to be an interesting day. 

The consultant affiliated to our hospice organised a seminar workshop for the staff to explore and discuss the law relating to assisted suicide within the health care setting and had organised for an Australian medic who was a specialist in Voluntary Assisted Dying to lecture us on the subject via zoom

For those that don’t know 

Voluntary assisted dying (VAD) refers to the assistance provided to a person by a health practitioner to end their life. It includes:

• 'self-administration', where the person takes the VAD medication themselves (this is sometimes called physician-assisted suicide or dying), and
• 'practitioner administration', where the person is given the medication by a doctor (or in some Australian States, a nurse practitioner or registered nurse) (this is sometimes called voluntary euthanasia).

‘Voluntary’ indicates that the practice is a voluntary choice of the person, and that they are competent (have capacity) to decide to access VAD.

As you can see the law in Australia seems a million miles away from ours in the Uk, however the criteria for VAD is precise and can only be used with a diagnosis of conditions that are life limiting of only a few months . Conditions such as MND, disabilities or mental health do not fit the criteria. 

It was a fascinating workshop and I felt that the  Australian consultant was rather intrigued that he had been approached by a tiny Welsh Hospice to discuss his role  rather than  by a UK palliative care centre based in say London. 

All of our hospice doctors, a good cross section of the nurses and support workers and a smattering of managers and Board Members turned up and on reflection I still am not sure how I feel about the whole subject. 

Of course the positives seem humane and client focused but when I asked the Australia doctor what situations had “ gone wrong” for want of a better phrase he discussed two cases that were sobering. 

One situation had a patient who had vomited after she had taken the medication and so didn’t die as was expected, while another had another patient taking his medication which was brought into him by a relative whilst he was an inpatient of a general hospital being looked after by nurses who had no clue he was about to take his own life. 

The ethical implications from both situations hung heavy in the air.

Anyhow it’s Saturday today.

It’s early and we have all been out for a walk. Roger is almost fully housetrained now. He walks well on the lead and sits politely in the car, unlike Dorothy who is now always crated in Bluebell and who remains vociferously loud during any journey.

He’s eating better and is less frightened of anything he doesn’t know.

But he is a chewer.

I think we will all go to the beach this afternoon.

I’m meeting up with Gorgeous Dave later and we are going to The Storyhouse to see a one woman show with the title How to be Amazingly Happy

'We will meet again'

These two things have been revolving in my head rent free today.

Today one of my patients talked at length about how much the Queen’s We Will Meet Again had affected her a couple of years ago now and we unpicked just how powerful her speech was when I served her a large port before lunch..it was a conversation that I should have had one too ..lol

Radio 2 caught me unawares too when I drove to work as Zoe Ball played somber music with hushed tones. 

When she played this next song by Beth Neilsen Chapman, it caught me totally unawares as I drove past Colwyn Bay and I had to stop briefly on the Prom to have a bit of a cry 

Tribute

 I don't want to over egg the pudding but this tribute, especially his very last line, moved me greatly

The Queen

 

I’ve been to a seminar on medically led assisted dying today. It was stimulating and thought provoking 

I was going to blog about it but I see that the Queen is poorly.

Several of my friends have texted me 

They know I’m a royalist 

The Queen is clearly dying

It’s all rather sad 

Postscript

Like many Brits of my age, my family has grown up with the Queen. My parents and grandparents were die hard, post war Royalists, and their lives always seemed inexplicably linked with the Royal family in so many ways. 

Her death links with memories and life events of my parents and grandparents today. Of days past and of memories sixty years in the making.

I’m guessing many of us will have this collective emptiness and sadness today. 

Today has been quite profound 

I’ve just heard Liz Truss say 

God Save The King 

Enjoy

 

Ladies Who Lunch

 

I met my friend Colin in Chester and we watched the cormorants on the Dee for an age, before the clouds blew over from Wales. 

We had lunch in the popular Marmalade Cafe and chatted like the two old queens we are.

Chester is only 30 minutes away from Trelawnyd driving slow, so it’s lovely to know I’ve got a city on my doorstep. 

Roger has got over his nerves with most things unknown now, but was scared by a thunderstorm last night so hid away with Mary at his side in his crate until things quietened down.

“ No George it’s not the peas, it’s the last thirty years!”

In December I ended a friendship .

I ended it ostensibly due to one spoken word 

One word which underlined , to me , that there was no respect in the relationship.

All this, I know is purposely vague

Relationships often end messily 

An amalgam of things generally 

But with a straw that broke the camels’ back

Fa venire l’acquolina in bocca

 After walking the dogs, I slept heavily until 3pm

I must have needed the sleep , for I woke cuddling Albert which never happens when we are both conscious. 

Subsequently I’m on catch up.

The place looks like Coventry after the bombing. 

Having a new puppy is like having a toddler without a nappy and this compounded with night shifts mean than the cottage looks, well rather grubby.

I drove to Sainsbury’s listening to the seven minute Last Resort by The Eagles 

And sang it all the way through.

I bought healthy

Mozzarella, Basil, huge organic tomatoes and a small Italian ciabatta. 

Chic Eleanor caught me by the fruit aisle and peered into my trolley

“ Fa Venice l’acquolina in bocca” she purred

She’s taught me that phrase before.

I came home and made proper coffee in the Moka pot. 

I gave each one of the dogs a pigs ear ( Dorothy always has two as her mouth is bigger) so I’ve got, I reckon a good 15 minutes piece until they start demanding again.

I pour my coffee and sit at the table 

I need a few minutes to write my blog and chill.

I note I have written several syringe driver readings on my hand in pen

You can always tell a hospice nurse when you see them, written above the glove line.

There’s a Trelawnyd Community Association meeting at 5.30 and because of the brief rain we had everything feels humid and sticky.

I need a shower too

But not before coffee and kitchen table time.

Dorothy kicks the cat flap in a diva anger strop and I let her in. 

Villager Jim is standing outside the cottage on two sticks 

I haven’t seen him since before lockdown. 

He wasn’t well then

We chatted for a while 

“ Apparantly I have  early onset Alzheimer’s John” he told me

“ You remembered my name after three years” I reminded him

“ Oh yes I did” he said rather pleased with himself.

Roger threw up his pigs ear onto the patio and Dorothy gleefully sucked it up.

I took my coffee and ipad into the living room, pigs ear smell is revolting

Winifred’s Rubber chicken lies forlorn on the carpet.

And from the kitchen I can hear Mary chasing Roger outside in order to bark a welcome to another passerby…Dorothy joins in because she feels she should 

Nothing is still except the chicken

I may light the log burner tonight

Winter Is Coming

 

As Carrie Bradshaw would say And Just Like That…..it’s autumn.

It’s seventeen minutes past six and it’s not yet dawn.

Where did the summer go?

I’ve booked the chimney sweep, and ordered the logs 

And the Bake Off have another motley group of 12 for us to either love or hate over the next few months.

The Christmas request rota is up at work 

The WalkingDead returns for its finale 

And I’ve already sorted through my jumper drawer trying to find ones that will fit.

Where has the year gone? 

Lockdown seems a million miles away now but the memories of isolation make us feed on company more more than we ever did. 

I’ll filling my diary with stuff and I have a list of things to do around the cottage for my last holiday of the year the week after next.

Cooking

 I’m on a couple of nights, tonight and Saturday and have spent the morning cooking.

I’m back on a healthy eating diet so have cooked some healthy meals to enjoy when I’m at work.

This morning it’s a katsu curried king prawns with udon noodles and stir fry.

Chicken and crispy potato salad with yogurt 

And garlic prawn, avocado and chicken sushi.

Each one can be split into two meals and are just as nice cold as when heated.

Sweet stuff is a box of sliced mango

I love making sushi. 

It’s mindful and careful and precise 

I love the smell of the shaoxing Rice Wine which infuses each piece 

The kitchen is filled with the scent of it

Chester

 I spent much of the morning in urology outpatients 

I never tell staff that I’m a nurse, I’m funny like that, I feign ignorance and watch everything like a welsh terrier. 

The consultant was nice enough 

I didn’t think much of the nurse I met. 

This afternoon, I went to Chester to see the Welsh horror movie The Feast , which was so dire, I left after an hour .

A friend texted me a simple, sad message about him starting radiotherapy  and I was glad I walked out of the cinema . I hurried out of the Storyhouse and sat in the sun , in the Cathedral grounds 

And we talked a long talk 

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