R's rue

 December 29th 2005 was a Thursday .  A suicide bomber killed himself, two Palestinian civilians and an Israeli soldier on the West Bank  Tony Blair was Prime Minister and Mariah Carey was doing well with “ Don’t forget about us”  There was little else of note to report that day, however it was the day I started to write Going Gently. My first post was perfunctory  disaster thoughts well my first blog........sounds rather like something Kenneth Williams would say. I will be brief, and "set the scene" as it were. I am 43, a nurse professionally, newly moved into the Welsh country side from Sheffield. I Am probably going through a mid life crisis. Ideal for a place like this......................look forward to talk soon. I didn’t give much away did I? but the “ Midlife crisis “ quote was a bit of giveaway.  For I felt a bit…..aimless.  Lizzy asked about my move from Sheffield to a tiny village the size of Hillsborough Park and I...

It was my 69th birthday last weekend. On Saturday, Shirley and I drove out to "The Fox House" for brunch. Then in the afternoon we attended the wedding party of two old friends of ours - Ian and Linda. They had been engaged for over twenty years but finally they decided they had had enough of living in sin. It was a lovely occasion in the function room above our local pub. Shirley and I left around seven o'clock. The best part was where Linda's grown up children said that Ian had been the only real father they had ever known. Sunday after Sunday I prepare roast dinners at home but last Sunday we went out to The Dore Moor Inn to celebrate my birthday. The meal was  delightful and Little Phoebe was a very good girl - especially when you consider that we were in there foe two hours and fifteen minutes. When the time came to pay the bill, I realised straight afterwards that we had been undercharged so I went back inside and told our waitress that our bottle of wine h...

  After many weeks of trepidation and angst,  Roger has now mastered the cottage staircase. True he runs at it with all legs flaying, Almost as if he was a over wound clockwork toy injected with Adrenalin  And true he is still very much so an uncoordinated mass of red and tan curls, typical of a puppy half his age. But hundreds of times a day, he can be found someone where on or around the staircase, Bouncing up it And Falling and bouncing back down it. A gleefully happy smile upon his daft face. from Going Gently https://ift.tt/5YcvHoT