Red Letter DAY

 


A first in the cottage.

Bun on my knee, Mary next to me


Snowdonia

 


I cooked lots of creamy mash and mini roasts even though I was good and didnt have any myself. 

I ve missed cooking dinner but did cheat with the bought cake

Snowdonia looks beautiful in the sunshine but i couldnt live up here, I prefer the rolling hills of Eastern North Wales

Stand Up


 Affable Despot Jason came with me to the Storyhouse last night. 
I hadn’t seen him for an age, but quite typically we left off when we last started and had a giggle.
He’s a natural storyteller who laughs at his own tales, a trait which is both endearing and infectious, and at times during the first stand up comic ( who was truly atrocious) we found ourselves giggling like schoolboys.
The main act was a young doctor, whose observational humour about his work and his relationship with his mother was both amusing, poignant and clever.
A nice way to spend a Friday evening.

Tomorrow I’m driving up to Rhiwlas in Snowdonia to see my friend Ruth who is recovering from a knee replacement. 
I’ve bought and will be cooking her a roast dinner and as it’s her birthday, I’ve invested in a cake, candles and party hats, 

Clarification

My favourite picture of Finlay leading Meg, and little George on the beach in 2006


 Yesterday’s “ Finlay” post wasn’t just about the grief for a dog as most of you thought it was.
It was the written acceptance and understanding of a shared love for something that was in all intense purposes,  a child. 
A child with red/brown curly hair and a wicked sense of fun.
The craving to have your own offspring isn’t just the domain of women.
I have had to own my long term desire for children and unexpected as it was, the counselling room has been the safe place in which I’ve explored and accepted the fact. 
It’s a gift to be able to explore your motivations and your drives
And to acknowledge what makes you tick as a human in this strange collections of experiences we call life.
I would have been a good dad
I was a good dad to Finlay, albeit an over protective one
Realising that, and acknowledging it
Is important


Escandalo


 Out for Breakfast...will leave you with the lisping bass section on cracking form

Blurry but good 



Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars


In my personal counselling this week my counsellor asked me when my heart was broken last. 
She qualified it as being a question not associated about my ex husband 
And I answered her quickly and without a pause
It was the death of Finlay
My first dog.
He was five when he died, 
A brain tumour robbing me of a dog with a heart of a lion
And a nature that endeared me to Welsh terriers for all of my life
Chasing Cars was playing on the radio every time I took him to the vets and the animal hospital 
And when I remembered him in my counselling room , I cried like a baby at his loss
The son my husband and I shared that was “only” a dog
He was so much more my counsellor observed kindly and with insight…
And tearfully I agreed with her

His gravestone lies in the front garden right next to the agapanthus and Jews mallow


Finlay Christmas 2004



Chatter

 I’m starting early for me.its just past eight and the Welsh are walked and fed and in the car.
Weaver and Bun are playing in the living room and haven’t left the cottage even though the cat flap is open.
They are home birds.
I have three clients to see today and have changed one client’s appointment to an early slot to suit her childcare. 
I will have a break between each one today so walking the dogs and note making will be easier.
I have nothing else planned for today.
Tomorrow I’m picking up my friend Polly, at her garage ( car MOT) and we are going for breakfast, then I’m going for an eye test and then theatre in the evening to see a talk by a practicing doctor titled The Secret Life Of A Sleepless Anaesthetist. 
Affable Despot Jason is going with me so it will be lovely to catch up and I think the talk will be a hoot. In my experience anaesthetic doctors are the most human 

Chores

 
My garden daffs and the shocking pink flamingo baking measures I bought in London


The American’s have a good word for jobs.
There are chores to be done.
I like the word chores.
Today has been the day for chores.

I bought a camellia for Nu’s garden which will be sent to her lovely new home in Surrey. Sorted out my diabetes Eye test and booked the Welsh in for their Haircuts.
I picked up a coffee and porridge from McDonalds and splashed out on a cheesy bacon wrap for Roger and Mary. ( they both eat their goodies with eyes blissfully closed) 
I then went to see village leaders Ian and Helen about the Flower Show only to find them out, so I did shopping, collected a prescription for Trendy Carol’s hubby, paid Anne Williams for the throws she bought me from Spain, before cleaning out a kitchen cupboard and going to Supervision in Prestatyn.
Islwyn was walking down the lane when I returned home and stopped to talk
“You’ve lost weight” he observed, adding “I’m glad, this village would be sad to lose you”
Im getting more of that sort of comment  recently and will accept the sentiment behind it now with some alacrity. 
“Thank You” I told him, but he was already sharing an anecdote about a family member who had his legs taken off when he was 26 stone, the moment was gone.

I picked daffs from the garden as the chill evening approached 
They make the cottage cheerful 
They always do.