A bit of thought . . .

I'm not that fond of certain words,

Some really make me cringe.

I'm not that opinionated;

But one or two will prime a whinge.

The main offender's 'awesome',

It almost refused to be typed,

It's used with barely a thought;

A mock superlative, that's been 'hyped'.

Don't get me wrong -words should be used

To express sublime emotions;

Just not 'that' one - it sounds so false

Just 'thrown' in as a notion.

Now! 'awe inspiring' is better

And there's plenty more to choose

So when you're about to say it

Think 'what else could I use'!

Always using exaggerated nouns.

Is not really that convincing.

Doesn't convey in its best form

What you are truly thinking.

So now, I must also rethink

Those words I often mention.

So they don't become meaningless

When meant with good intention.

I wanted a real tree!

Last Christmas - gosh that sound so long ago; I hummed and hawed about either dragging our artificial but ever so realistic 7' tree from down the loft, to take up its usual position in the living room, pretty much blocking the bottom half of the room, OR buying a real one. A proper fir tree in all its needle splendour. The garden centre assistant somehow managed to convince me "you don't need a 'non-drop' tree, just look after it properly and it'll be fine"!  SO, we man-handled it out of the car and into the living room and attempted to place it in the special clamp/water container also purchased. Having almost creased ourselves manoeuvring said tree, crashing into the book-case and getting spiked with the needles several times, it was placed and looked fantastic. "The true smell of Christmas" commented my Husband! I dressed the tree with our 9 year old son and da-daaa! clicked on the lights. Gasps of oooh and arrrr, and hardly a needle shed. I glimpsed down at my arms and hands to see  nettle-type wealds appearing; not itchy, but vividly there.

You've got to admit though, it was worth all the faff!

 Move onto January 2nd 2011 

 As we were taking off the decorations and most of the lights; it became very evident that despite constantly topping up with water, the tree had really started to droop and had shed needles in abundance! I could not take off the remaining lights - so helpful husband took over. We figured that the only way to take the tree out of the house would be to exit via the patio doors, a mere couple of step away. At this point there was still water in the base of the stand - not for a lot longer however. As it was being dragged unceremoniously through the door, all the water escaped, the voile curtain track got pulled down and the needles took over the whole of the bottom end of the living room.

As you can see, it was a shambles. Me to husband "you have every permission to say I told you so, even though you didn't"  and hysterical laughter ensued as I tried to work out how the hell I was going to clear up!

After one lot of hoovering

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tree has left the building

Note to self - drag the artificial tree down from the loft next Christmas Kath!

Congratulations! You passed Nurse . . .

I often used to look at the photo of Grandma, on my desk in the nurses home, for inspiration. I did work hard eventually, but not until the last 6 months. Then I pulled out all the stops; even sacrificing the odd night out, and they were odd let me tell you! A bit of a blurry haze on more than one occasion! Not so much as the lion the witch and the wardrobe, as the boyfriend, the nurse and the wardrobe . . . No time to explain here.
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Grandma's SRN exam paper 1932

I never kept my exam paper! I was more relieved that it was all over. I never really thought that I'd passed, although the exams did go better than expected. Our Registered General Nurse results were meant to arrive by post at the Nurses Home. About 5 of the results envelopes on that day, including mine, didn't arrive. I was on an early shift that morning and had already decided that I must have failed, being as I had not received notification. 

After some consideration a few of us decided to trail up to the School of Nursing and check what the hell had happened. We ended up reading the results off a list! I'd passed, no couldn't be . . . yes there it was I had passed. A group of us grabbed our paper hats and scrunched them up and threw them into the air with sheer delight. Phone calls were made to anxiously awaiting parents and family. If we were on duty that day, we were supposed to then go on shift, in amidst all the excitement. First, we trooped to the uniform room, to get the hat we had all coveted as students, learned how to fold it and wear it with pride with the blue student sack dress, until such a time till our registration papers came through. It was such a good moment. 

Now we were accountable, qualified nursing staff - looking for work. That's another episode  .  .  .

It just snapped!

Hand crafted from rip-stop nylon; 

Factory floor pickings, from the Balloon factory, 

Made a fantastic kite,

Run up on the sewing machine;

A last ditch attempt to take part
In 'family' oriented activity

An indian summer of a day.

Beautifully clear, kite flying perfection.

Happiness shared - a proper family outing.

Strains on the kite string, taught and singing

Flapping uncertainly and then soars,

Higher and higher.

A kite soaring free into the blue.

Freedom, until wound back in.

Wound back in and encased.

Ready for another sojourn.

But, instead it flies still whilst I walk.

Obedient on the lead behind me.

Until it meets its fate;

Becomes entangled in branches.

String becoming tighter still.

Until it just snapped!

A free kite now

Free, but completely alone.

1930's uniform . . .

Thought you may like to see a couple of 1930's uniform pictures. Grandma was issued with a book and her uniform permit, on successfully becoming a State Registered Nurse.

 "General Nursing Council for England and Wales - INSTRUCTIONS - with regard to Uniform and Badges which may be worn by Registered Nurses - 1931 - issue 4"

These uniforms have very detailed description, not least,  right

"The hem of the skirt must not be less than 8 inches and not more than 12 inches off the ground"

It's all in the uniform - or is it ?

I wonder how many of you will be able to relate to this, This blog post is about hiding behind a uniform.

Have you ever been in a situation where you hide behind a mask Be it uniform, make up or whatever? . . .

During my nurse training, as I mentioned before, I didn't really feel proud of my student's uniform; it wasn't exactly smart, didn't really inspire people to see the 'learner' stripes emblazoned on the paper cap, perched precariously on stray hair. 

However - once we passed our State Registration, it all changed, we got to wear the same crappy blue sack-like dress, but with a symbolic long white cap, up until our Registration papers came through, any way. Then we were, proper nurses, wearing proper uniform and expected to be accountable and professional. This transformation of uniform took on the white dress of the qualified nurse complete with the pale blue belt and the coveted silver buckle, later to become health and safety obsolete. As much as they were totally impractical and latterly outlawed for the purposes of moving and handling; they looked pretty good!

Me in full battledress!

The thing was, as much as this uniform evoked a lot of pride in me, it also scared me at first. Did I really own the privilege to wear this now ? Well yes, but was it really me underneath, and was I only masquerading in this uniform? Did it make me feel more professional, yes! Some days early on in my career, I felt as though someone else completely was on the ward, not me at all. I was 'hiding' beneath this professional veneer. Has anyone else ever felt like that and does it matter anyway?

Remembrance . . .