Mary

 

The vet who looks like Antonio Banderas, stood behind the surgery front desk eating a banana 

I watched him take every bite. 

He has a certain Spanish swagger, and I heard his Catalonian lisp as he joked with the nurses about something unimportant . They cackled loudly at his jokes 

I was sad as I realised the fact that he wasn’t going to see Mary.

The Jolly middle aged vet who dressed like a Children’s television presenter had the honours 

She had a trainee vet in tow too. 

Mary was a delight. She stood quiet and still even though I knew the vet hurt her by examining her inflamed ear canal and put up with the obligatory ear wash, anal gland examination and antibiotic syringing without a murmur. 

“ She’s your old girl that’s clear” the vet observed kindly “her gaze never leaves your face” 

The trainee vet cooed over her too and politely Mary licked her nose before retreating back into my arms, ready to go home

“ Oh what a sweetie” the trainee said

It’s these things that you often don’t see yourself that move you when someone else recognises it. 

On our way home, Mary sat upright and eager in the passenger seat watching the road, just as Meg used to do on our journeys 

And I couldn’t of been more proud of her if I tried .

I stopped at KFC and bought her her own couple of pieces of chicken as a treat

Which she chomped on without opening her eyes,

All the way home

Time

 

I’ve just bought several second hand texts books for University on line. it’s another job ticked off today’s list. The list is covered in home made hummus but so far my sheffield T shirt is devoid of dip.

Mary has an ear infection and is going to the vets shortly. 

There is a new darkly brooding Spanish vet there with a lisp and teeth Donny Osmond would be proud of 

I hope he’s on duty today. 

He’s like Antonio Bandaras’ younger brother.

Olla, Olla treble Olla 

I’m hoping to get Roger booked in for a groom too and it’s TCA meeting later.

Something will have to give .

As well as offering condoms, sanitary ware and free breakfasts the University has a comprehensive study skills department where not only are you supported through IT and academia , you are taught how to manage your time better.

Now I always thought I was ok in this department, but yesterday I thought what the hell and booked myself in for a supportive tutorial. I could be better at sorting my time and I need to practice to say no sometimes.

To answer Jean, my time at the hospice is now divided into two twelve hour shifts . The university study day is from 9am to 3 pm with tutorials until 4 pm. I have factored in another 6 hours study at the local campus which is based in  nearby Rhyl once a week. I can work there and pop back to dog walk.

Everything else will be worked around these four days which I hope is doable 

I restart choir from next month too which is therapy 

First Day At University

 

First days are always a bit of a bunfight

Getting lost, feeling like a fat salmon swimming upstream against a shoal of spotty 18 year olds all coughing and spluttering new covid.

Just getting my ID card felt like an episode of the Krypton Factor 

For overseas visitors https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Krypton_Factor

Our new group is larger than I’m used to and polite. Everyone was very earnest, so as usual I turned into class clown to lighten some of the proceedings.

I’m sure our first focus group will pick on that in time.

But when the student support officer offers the group 10 condoms each 

It was worth telling everyone I was flattered.

Single Prejudice

 

Analysis on radio 4 last week explored the knotty subject of singles prejudice.

This was touched on my one of the commentators of yesterday’s somewhat fish and chip drama post when they talked about someone walking into a restaurant alone and asking for a table for just one.

If you are apologising to the resultant owner from the get go, no wonder single tables are hidden away by the gutter or next to the toilets.

How does prejudice rear its ugly head for those alone? 

Rather more than you would expect. 

Tax savings for married couples

Single people spend 92% of their disposable income compared with 83% of Married couples

Single person supplements on holidays and in hotels 

Difficulty getting a rental compared to couples who may have a duel income

Unsaid Expectations for the singletons to cover “ family friendly shifts” at work such as Christmas and school holidays

Leave of absence easier if spouse or children are ill rather than say a close friend that singletons may rely on

Extra work responsibilities often taken by singletons

Cultural marginalisation of single people  proven in most societies 

A social stereotype of not inviting a widow to a dinner party, the spinster and her cats, the bachelor hiding his money.

Do we remember covid ? When the Government public ally acknowledged single people and suggested they form a support bubble with one other? How odd did that feel? 

All Government policy is centred around “Putting Families first”

In the US some recent research acknowledged that single people tended to be more open minded, less conformist, have closer democratic leanings and paid MORE TAX! 

Personally I’ve noticed that being single in a parochial area is more difficult that living in a city, where socialising on your own is much more accepted and seen.

Perhaps next time I’m on the beach eating my chips 

I will do it a little more defiantly 

Solo Supper

 

I’ve always been slightly wary of single men sitting in their cars at the beach car parks.

Shadowy memories of childhood references to perverts and saddos.

Vague thoughts of lonely men, predatory men after girls ( not boys in those days) 

Something not right. 

Tonight, the rain fell lightly around seven and it broke the humidity 

The dogs were all fast asleep , so I sneaked out to break the claustrophobic feel of the day and drove the ten minute drive to the beach .

On a whim I went to Karl’s Chippy and bought a fish and chip supper

I haven’t had one for years , so balancing everything out on passenger seat and dashboard a sat at the beach car park and ate my supper, alone without the usual canine bunfight.

The car park was busy , even at dusk , and there were still a few swimmers in the sea which surprised me , so rather pleased with myself I tucked in a cod the size of flattened slipper.

I only noticed the two women in the car next to me a while later. As I turned I caught them laughing then as soon as they realised that I had seen them , they turned their heads together embarrassed.

They had been laughing at me, 

Presumingly the saddo , eating his tea all alone. 

I recognised their body language , and their pity and awkwardness at being caught.

I knew what they were thinking .

Of course if I had three dogs in the car, they would have saved me from the epithet of sad pervert, saddo

Single fish and chip eater…….

Dog owners, by nature of the beasts are seen as warm soft characters ,especially if chips are being shared out between four mouths.

No an older man in a car alone at the beach means something else to people. And as I wrapped the scraps up for the dogs 

I felt a little tearful and shamed by them.

Notre Dame de Paris Le Temps des Cathédrales

It’s humid today again, and I’m feeling fractious and ready for a fight.

In Sainsbury’s some old scrote nearly bumped Bluebell and I thought myself very well restrained with only one Cock and Twat shouted before I exited the car.

I found a red Chinese  fan left on the kitchen wall when I returned. It had a note with it scribbled on the back of a Tesco till receipt , which read, somewhat obscurely “ Be a fan to yourself” 

Mrs Trellis’ work no doubt.

I put the defunct paddling pool on the village web page free to good home and dismayed to see that one of the village schoolgirls had been stopped by two men in a car on London road last night and almost abducted.

They were thwarted by two off duty policemen in the following car and later were arrested.

Christ Almighty you are not safe anywhere. 

I’ve made noodles and gochujang sauce with a couple of runny eggs on top for brunch

And scrubbed the patio until like Blanche du Bois I needed a shower to “ calm my nerves”

Two 😂emojis on the website about the pool…no takers as yet.

Enola Gay

My colleagues on their leaving do had just arrived in a weatherspoons pub when I got to Chester this afternoon. It was hot with humidity at 85% and with being snobby about Weatherspoons ( yes I admit it, pubs where middle aged women go to with no teeth in are not somewhere I choose to enter) I  decided to to cool off in the shadow of the Cathedral and under the horse chestnut trees that flank it’s russet brown walls.

A busker was playing Enola Gay and I listened to him for an age before meeting up with the other nurses at their next pub for an hour or so before returning home a sweaty mess.

Old Home (Live)

Dillie Keane wrote this music hall-esque song twenty odd years ago when she moved house and 

It’s Victorian sentiment can be viewed as somewhat cloying and sentimental , 

But last night she told the audience that she wanted and needed to relieve it on this their old lady tour. 

Economical with any history , she said simply that she had had to move homes again and her demeanour and that of her fellow singers changed drastically.

They sang this song and you could have heard a pin drop by the end of it 

And when I got home I researched Dillie on wiki.

It transpires that her husband died, not a year ago now and that’s why she had moved from her home

Fascinating Aïda

What is not to love about Fascinating Aïda ? 

Satirical, filthy, clever and funny the ladies are older, slightly frailer but wiser and reflecting their hatred of ageing  this their “ 40th Anniversary Tour sees their irreverence for the government, widows at parties, cosmetic surgery and relationships in full flight. 

Janet and I loved it. 

Front woman Dillie Keane is still responsible for much of the hilarity as always, but now with her shock of white hair and stooped posture  she now resembles a rather foul mouthed Margaret Rutherford than the potty mouthed middle aged matron we are used to. 

She still commands the stage without even trying.

Also in her seventies is other original singer Adèle Anderson, who hilariously performed the Famous Cabaret style Leider song as a seventy year old Liza Minnelli would , with bad balancing on a saloon chair , is wonderful as is the junior soprano Lisa Pullman  who has been with the team for just 20 years.

A wonderfully rude, funny and heartwarming night

We had a blast

Sausages and water don’t mix

 

Well the 6 quid paddling pool has been a bit of a disaster.

In an effort to entice the dogs into it on one of the hottest days of the year, I emptied twenty cocktail sausages into it all of which sank to the bottom of the pool

Roger looked as me as though I was mad. 

Mary walked off 

And Dorothy hurled herself in with gay abandon with her mouth open like a pelican.

Ten sausages in, I realised that she wasn’t able to hold her breath and despite effectively drowning in four inches of water, I managed to drag her out with the eleventh sausage firmly between her lips.

A few firm slaps and several pints of water poured forth and after she took a couple of big breaths she was ready for more.

I plucked the sausages from the pool and gave them to her

Sausages and water 

And bulldogs

don’t mix

For thought

Scrapper

 

Tomorrow night I’m seeing Fascinating Aida with my sister and Saturday it’s an all day drinking session to mark two staff nurses moving on from the hospice. I think all hospices have a healthy turn over of staff, for many it’s a lot to give of themselves for an extended period of time.

I won’t be drinking on Saturday, I’m not a lover of getting tipsy in an afternoon, I just want to sleep in some corner. But I shall go,  drink a shandy and pass over the leaving gifts.

I’m often volunteering for the collection job. 

Saturday night I’m meeting Gorgeous Dave anyway so I have to get home in one piece.

So it’s what to do today? 

Yesterday I went out for lunch with an old friend today I’m meeting my sister in law for lunch, after that I think I’ll pop over to Chester to see the acclaimed British movie Scrapper

It’s overcast today so safe to take the dogs out for two walks before I go out. They will sleep the afternoon away….

Btw

I’ve had to invest on bigger poo bags because Dorothy seems to be producing copious amounts of effluent  at the moment . I have no idea where it is coming from, even though I know it’s disproportionate to what’s going in……she’s proud of her work though, always giving me or any passing Walker a proud smile ….

“ Tradaaaaaaa! “ sort of thing where she gives everyone a Kerala Settle smile with her tiny white baby teeth.

Hated the film, which was a shame. Left after three quarters of an hour which was irksome.

Bought some noodles at Chester Market to buck my mood up

Morning

 

Note to self, don’t agree to work three long days together.

It’s been a nice change, but I was so glad not to be up at 5.45 am this morning.

The dogs are happy to have me home, they realised this around 8am when I marshalled them all for their big walk. Roger danced around the garden and stood guard by the lane wall, legs akimbo.

He sleeps on guard every night. Sat in the kitchen reading chair watching the cat flap and listening for sounds of danger through it.

The roses around the garden arch have bloomed yet again in this hot weather. They are an old British breed known for their scent and that scent is glorious this morning.

The sky is a watery blue as the dew and mists burn away and it’s going to be a glorious day, and the cottage, which faces south is bathed in gold. The plant pots donated to the TCA , still full of oak saplings are dry and have just been watered as have the house plants, all 42 of them.

Dorothy has already found a cool bit of concrete on the back patio and has lowered herself nipple first onto it.

I thought I felt Albert rub my legs too when I was pottering.

It was a towel hanging over the back of the chair.

I made whole meal bread as someone had left me a jar of raspberry jam yesterday. 

I fancied jam on toast for breakfast with lashings of butter 

The sun has brightened my week, all week. I had an unexpected blip on Saturday, but I’m fine now…old strings being pulled…..but like I said, I’m ok now

I picked up my bucket of coffee and walked around the gardens, with Roger in tow.

Our bit of the village is quiet and filled with the buzzing of bees and with birdsong 

And as I now sit at the kitchen table looking at my chameleon perched in the window , both hands are around my cup and I am so glad to be home.

The baby’s paddling pool I bought last week 

Is finally being used