Kelley

 

You have probably never heard of Kelley Swindall and neither had I until five o'clock this evening. Ian's girlfriend Sarah got in touch from London to say that her American friend Kelley would be playing at The Alder Bar in a former industrial area of downtown Sheffield called Neepsend.

It was a very unusual thing for us to do on a Friday night but at eight o' clock Shirley and I rocked up at The Alder Bar - somewhere we had never been before - to see Kelley perform. She specialises in what you might call Americana and her split set included one or two well-known songs from that genre including "Me and Bobby McGee" by Kris Kristofferson and "Wagon Wheel" by Darius Rucker. In between there were several of Kelley's own songs including the example below - "You Can Call Me Darling If You Want To" - courtesy of YouTube

She was alone on stage with her acoustic guitar and harmonica and though there wasn't  a big crowd to see her, we were all very appreciative. She is a seasoned performer, comfortable in her own skin and confident about her abilities.

Kelley hails from Atlanta, Georgia but spent most of the last eighteen years living and working in New York City. That's where she met Ian's girlfriend Sarah who spent five years at drama school there. They became good friends - both of them a long way from home.

Shirley and I enjoyed the show and we chatted to Kelley  during the interval. She had just flown in from New York this very day. The world of music is crazy. Like many other very capable semi-professional performers, Kelley Swindall deserves to be better known. Cream doesn't always rise to the top. Sometimes it's just about being in the right place at the right time and getting some lucky breaks.

Visit her website here.

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Campaign Against Living Miserably

 

This Christmas will be the first one ever I will not be sending any Christmas Cards.

The posting cost is far too prohibitive.

After much thought I will make a donation to CALM which is a charity against living miserably 

And this remembered old blog is the reason why( it is often posted this time of year)

Christmas 1985

Christmas week 1985 I was  shadowing a community psychiatric nursing sister with her caseload in a deprived and depressing northern town

Through a succession of faceless maisonettes, we sat on grubby sofas and listened to  sad stories of loneliness, mental illness and substance abuse and I watched as my mentor tried her best to keep heads above water and bums out of the local psychiatric unit.

The last visit of the day was to a woman I shall call Jean.

Jean lived alone in the top flat of a ten story complex. She had suffered from severe mental health problems for forty years and had recently been placed in her flat from long term psychiatric care only a few months before.

I remember her flat very well. There was no carpet in the hall and the living room but there was a tiny tinsel Christmas tree standing on top of a large black and white tv.  A homemade fabric stocking was hung on the fire surround and just two Christmas cards  were perched on the mantle.

( one of those cards having been sent by my colleague) The flat was sparse but incredibly clean and it was evident that Jean had been waiting for our visit all day.

In mismatching cups we were offered coffee with powdered milk and a single mince pie served on a paper plate and I remember sharing a sad glance with the nurse when Jean presented us both with gifts hastily wrapped in cheap Christmas paper. My gift was two placemats with photos of cats on them. The nurse received a small yellow vase, and I remember Jean beaming with delight when we both thanked her effusively for her kindness. 

When we washed up our own cups, the nurse quietly checked the fridge, noting that most of the shelves were empty . There was a calender on the wall with the note " NURSE COMES TODAY" written on that day's date. Nothing else was written on it until the week of new year's eve, where the same sentence was written.

It was the very first time that I had experienced someone who was so totally isolated in a community setting and it shocked and saddened me.

I listened as the nurse talked about medication, and as  I waited patiently when she took Jean into the bedroom to administer a regular injection I noticed a carrier bag which the nurse had tucked away by the side of the arm chair shortly after we arrived. In it was a package of cold meat, and what looked like chocolates and a cake.

Before we left, we let Jean monopolize her only conversation of the week and as she retrieved our coats, I watched and grew a few years older as the nurse silently slipped a five pound note behind one of the cards on the mantle.

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Lovely

 Good morning from the frosty South

Fire is crackling

Blanket wrapped around

Music playing

And I’m warm inside

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