Rice Balls & Charles

 

Yesterday my nephew Pete rang me up to see if I wanted to go to a local food festival with him .He’s a total outdoorsy speed junkie so this was a change of direction for him so I was delighted to do something different . 

We were accompanied by my elder sister Ann and have just spent an enjoyable hour perusing the stalls and buying up tidbits not usually seen in Welsh high Streets.

I bought a selection of Italian Arancini rice balls and some overly expensive olives and after we had a nice chat and a drink in the gardens of the Glasfryn which is a restaurant overlooking Theatre Clwyd.

Pete showed me a photo on his phone, it was of when my father and mother met King Charles when he was a budding Prince Charles and was taken in the 70s

I hadn’t seen it for years

My mother looks terrified . 

My father just very proud

Queue

 I’ve been toying with the idea of going to London to see the Queen .

But common sense took over.

I couldn’t justify the expense, not with Bluebell’s service coming up 

The phenomenon of “ The Queue” seems to be hotly debated in some areas of the media with reporters accusing people of loving the spectacle  of queue over the prospect of showing respect to the Monarch 

I’m not sure that’s the case, I think throughout all this period the  turning up to watch the proceedings has been the only way that many can feel “ a part “ of things. 

During the processions applause has been the only other way of participation for many 

I get it, totally….

Today I met my friend Polly for lunch at Bryn Williams at Porth Eirias 

The portion size was small but the linguine was tasty enough.

The restaurant is situated in the Sea Activity Centre on the Prom which resembles a soviet bunker from its land side

It was nice to get the wind on my face afterward, and I stood on the Promenade for an age watching the white horses show themselves in the bay

With A Hint Of Orange

I’ve been busy today

Well I say busy…. I’ve been pottering

I’ve just come back after a walk and ate a sandwich on the way home whilst listening to The Archers.

I missed the Linda Snell/ Justin Elliot scene as Dorothy was barking too much.

Today I’ve finished painted my upstairs landing. I didn’t photograph my work because the landing is just too small.

It’s a gentle yellow with a new lampshade to match. 

William’s bum marks have now been painted over on the bedroom door corner where he used to enjoy himself so much

( for those few that don’t know, William was a welsh terrier and not a disgusting ex boyfriend) 

Hey ho.

My friend Neil , rang me to share that Sainsbury’s had orange glasses at a special offer price 

So I popped down and bought the last one. 

My black and white bathroom , has now been filled with accents of orange.

Too much? 

I’m not sure.

As I was painting Roger enjoyed himself in the garden with Albert . They didn’t play as Albert used to do with Winifred .They just watched each other , daring each other to move first. 

After Albert finally tired, I gave Roger a pink lady apple to chew on.
 

I’ve lit the fire again tonight. 

Bright, Bright, Sunshiny day

 

This morning I completed my second speed awareness course. As bad luck would have it I was sat next to a garrulous and rather irritating woman from Llandudno who never stopped spouting rubbish rather than being parked next to a brooding good looking Welsh farmer called Iwan who sat to her left.

“Chalk it up to experience”  he told me in his sing song welsh accent and I nodded gamely, in that way you do when trying to ingratiate yourself. 

The irritating woman monopolised his attention

The Cow ! 

Yesterday, I started my counselling diploma . 

It felt an important day, and was one that gave me a great deal of food for thought.

From yesterday, I now feel as though I have a life plan.

I sort of know where I am going.

Four years ago ( was it four?) I was financially in dire straits. I was retired, facing the prospect of losing my home, was carless, emotionally fucked and didn’t have a plan of what I was doing and where I was going.

Yesterday I saw the forward path for real, and it felt real and right and exciting.

Completing my counselling course will take me to the age of 63. 

If ( sorry when) I qualify I will be then able to take my own clients whether that be in a palliative care setting or privately, and that transition will allow me to retire properly from nursing after forty one years in the profession. 

The counselling course will push me and I need that. It will push me emotionally, professionally and most importantly academically and sitting in the classroom yesterday, looking over Google classroom and feeling slightly overfaced by technology felt all rather exciting.

I have budgeted for the costs and have set aside monies to see me through the training, and my part time status at work will allow me some balance and downtime.

I have a plan 

And it feels the right Plan 

Touch wood.

I’ve just taken the dogs to the beach. When I am driving now, Roger has got into William’s old habit of sniffing and licking my hair as we go. 

It’s a lovely feeling , all told and I am so grateful he has settled in to the cottage dynamic .

So home is sorted, work is going well and the future has a plan .

What was it the Jimmy Cliff song went ?

I can see clearly now ,the rain has gone ……….

Flip Flops

 “ oh Darling John , you are in flip flops!” 

Chic Eleanor was disappointed as she’d planned our early morning walk to be across the fields by the side of the Gop.

I had remembered by posh Northface jacket but had let the side down with my flip flops 

“ Only you” Eleanor tutted 

We walked across the wet fields anyway and typically I fell out of the said flip flops so many times my feet were stained with sheep poo by the time we got back

I didn’t mind too much.

It was refreshing enough

Moving

 This video from tiktok is extremely powerful 

Members of the Scottish public paying their respects to the Queen’s coffin, and bowing their heads without instruction as they pass 

Damp

 

I’ve got some jobs done today. 

This week I have no shifts as I’ve taken some holiday that I was owed….and I want to get those jobs done.

Living in an old building there is always things to do. 

I bought paint for the back of the cottage which is rendered white and I’m planning to paint the upstairs hall into the east wing the same gentle yellow of the living room.

This is a pragmatic decision as I’ve got far too much yellow paint left over from the living room.

Having said this, it’s humid and damp today so it’s not a day for painting.

I replaced the absent kitchen door knob ( it’s been missing over a decade) , and went out blackberry picking to get the air and to feel the fine rain on my face, but there were few fruits to be seen down the lane than I expected, but there are more sloes to be had on the field borders

It was nice to be soaked though, and my feet in my flip flops squeaked happily as I clip clopped home. 

I booked Roger’s first haircut, paid bills and made bean soup, spiced with garlic and chilli. 

And watched the Queen’s Coffin being taken up the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. 

I see the line heckler that shouted that Andrew was a nonce was dragged backwards out of shot like an extra in one of the Alien films. 

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