Recapitation


What do you do when someone's head falls off?  In my opinion you don't try to re-affix the old head, you simply make a new head. Of course it is possible to recycle some of the features of the old head including eyes and nose. Creating a new mouth requires a screwdriver but why bother with ears? Hearing is an overrated sense in my opinion. Three regular visitors to this blog get by very well indeed even though they are essentially deaf.

The reason that Bob's head fell off  is that the temperature was rising outside. Water was dripping everywhere. Those of us with hearing listened to the drips as the previously crunchy snow began to turn to slush. Before Bob's head fell off he lost his nose and one of his potato eyes. He looked a right mess.

Little Phoebe was coming here in the middle of the afternoon and I was a little worried in case she suffered some kind of trauma upon seeing a now headless Bob. That's why I did the swift surgery - no anaesthetics or anything. I suspect you will agree with me when I say that a child's mind could be permanently scarred by the sight of a decapitated best friend.

Being a transplant surgeon is not as hard as it might appear. I have had zero training in the field and discovered that all I needed  was a modicum of common sense, a screwdriver, gloves and a garden spade.

As I was operating on Bob, I wondered why all snowmen are white. In this age of multi-culturalism and political correctness, it is surely time that we saw black and brown snow people in our midst. If there is to be a next time, I must investigate food colourings that I could spray onto the surface of the snow or would non-white people find that offensive?  It is so hard to do the right thing.

Finally, I have confession to make. My idea for a story based on Bob The Snowman and Little Phoebe was 99% plagiarised and based entirely on the comic book "The Snowman" by Raymond Briggs - first published in 1978 and later turned into a very popular Christmas film with a memorable theme song sung by Welsh choirboy, Aled Jones. Well done to Frances and I think Thelma for spotting this crudely attempted  deception!



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22.07 Bedtime

 I’ve just checked on Albert and he’s hidden himself away under the spare bed again.
Roger crawled underneath the flotsam when I climbed the stairs and has decided to stay with him which is odd 
Or perhaps it’s not .
I’ve left them both there lying close to each other.
Funny animal humanity on show 
Mary and Dorothy just can’t be arsed .

Hey ho


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Catch Up

 


As a student nurse , I knew this view very well. 
It’s the view of the west side of Sheffield from the multi story Royal Hallamshire Hospital and I love this photo in particular as in the recent snow storms a few schoolboys had written this greeting to all of the patients whose wards look out over the city.
How sweet is that?

Thank you for all your best wishes for Albert, who is brighter today , although certainly not out of the woods health wise .

In the middle of the night, tired of the cramped conditions , I retired to my own bed followed by Mary and Dorothy. Roger remained on guard and was fast asleep on the floor when I got up at 8 am for their walk. 
Albert stirred from under the bed when I moved it aside and looked at me angrily
He hissed when I tried to examine him 
He doesn’t look well and has lost weight but, still there he was, so I left him be and took the dogs out.
He was sat on my bed when I returned. 
I crushed some cat food in my fingers and put it in front of him.
And he ate it. 
But not all. 
I’ve left him with towels on the floorboards and the fan heater on.
I have a plan.

I will take him to the vets tomorrow if he gets worse or remains off his food. But I’m not wanting heroics. 
He’s a cat who hates being touched, abhors strangers and loathes vets and the thoughts of investigations and blood tests and let’s see what we can do ? is not kind for the type of cat he is. 
I’m in two minds  to take him up to the surgery but its 17 miles away and well out of the vets visiting district.
But we wait and see.





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