We took the usual barrage of calls from relatives and people wondering how Nan was. In Llanelli you have to spend hours keeping everyone in the loop, they pass that on to their network and the news then gets spread around the town, region and that is how a small community works. Effectively you repeat yourself to several people, who then repeat themselves to several more people, who repeat themselves etc. Get the gist?
We then went to the hospice and Nan was incredibly bright and much better than i was expecting. Yes of course she;s tiny, weak, in bed, but she was bright, speaking, listening and if I'm honest, although you can see she is at advanced stage of cancer, she didn't look like she was about to go into a coma imminently. She had improved again since yesterday. She keeps bouncing back.
We sat and chatted a little, but mostly just sat. The chaplain, a rather camp Welsh priest called Iryll, and we sat around eating Quality Street whilst my Mum disclosed that she pretended i was a girl for the first 2 days of my life. A real Welsh classic moment.
I was then tasked to nip into Town to buy some things. That is where i experienced the full force of Lanelli town centre on a Saturday unleashed. It was truly remarkable. I've never seen anything like it.
Within 5 minutes i had counted 6 mobility scooters. A man going into Asda with 2 diet cokes in the drinks holders, man going into the market with Welsh flag on the back (customised), man waiting outside the butchers whilst the lady got his Lamb Chops ready (drive through), man who looked totally fit and able bodied with a walking stick as prop (clearly for the DSS benefit)
Then the final classic shot of old girl parking outside Asda whilst gossiping 'nonversation' to another old girl in front of Argos surrounded by old tarts in leggings and teenage mothers pushing around suspiciously older kids in buggies. Does anyone fucking walk in this town?!!
It was amazing. Like a sort of Mobility Scooter rally. it is incredible the least mobile town centre I've seen. Like one big doctors waiting room. People hobbling around on sticks, wheelchairs, massive obese people waddling around eating pasties, massive steroid muscle bound boys with tattoos everywhere, old people in the macs and beige 'rigouts', young teenage mothers in leggings and UG boots screaming at their kids running amok, old tarts in leopard print leggings, gossip, packs of mobility scooters like a 'ride out' for Hells Angels. it was incredible.
I went into Llanelli market, a great place full of really cheap stalls and a hub of nonversation, i saw Barry Lewis an old friend of the family and all the chat was about Taff Daniels.
Then it was back to hospice for more Quality Street and sitting. She is OK Nan I'd say. Peaceful. There is love so i relaxed.
This was all played out to the background of a mental and dramatic family row, which i became the central peacemaker, referee and middle man. No change there. It was then back to Brymoor Road at 6pm for Tea and Rissoles. Knackered.
I popped into to get my laptop from a great Indian Welsh guy called Ruby who sported a superb medallion, must be the Tom Jones influence on The Voice and after having to wipe the whole machine which had the computer equivalent of chlamydia, manic depression, mrsa and bird flu (basically it was fucked) - i was back in business. He said it could have been from a dodgy website, i kept quiet, considering my 'favourite' menu was stacked full of them. Pleased i didn't share that with the camp Chaplain. The guy told me to love my laptop, to take care of it. Not to visit dodgy sites. Does that include Asian shaven haven 6?
I then got a text from an old friend saying they were suicidal, more family drama calls, visited a family member for a nice cup of tea, though found the tea surprisingly weak which is sacrilege in Lanelli. The tea must be strong. it is what you set your life by. Everything follows from the tea. Standards must be kept. Clearly you know people are struggling when they serve weak tea. Tell tale sign of depression i think.
Then it was back to Brymoor at 10.30pm for a sit down and relax. Fuck me what a day. the great news is Nan OK and not fading immediately and she is peaceful, the witness of LLanelli town centre on a Saturday was something i think David Atenborough should film. Fuck the south Pole get down to Llanelli boy. The rissoles were a triumph, the camp Chaplain a character, the old tarts a joy and the family drama a strain.
There's only one thing to end a day like this, something that will send me to sleep peacefully, that will meditate me, nourish me spiritually. Calm and relax me. Now, where is that Alan Green phone in..aaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhhh!
xx
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