Garden state

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On holiday for two, possibly three, weeks now. Almost on cue after a weekend of NMC agitation, the panel delivered their decision around the impairment of the four nurses still in the ‘game’ at 10am this morning. Day one of annual leave. Week 13 of NMC hearings. Year 6 for the whole shebang.

None of the nurses should have faced serious disciplinary action. More a good old disinfect and reinvigorate with kick ass refresher training to blast away the sour notes of being embroiled in a languishing ‘service’ kicked into the long grass by a greedy and hopelessly inadequate new mistress/trust.

What this process has achieved is to make howlingly visible how unfit for purpose the NMC is. And generate dread, horror and anxiety.

LB’s key nurse (the one the panel inappropriately gushed over) was found ‘not impaired’ and released while the final three were found impaired in some ways. They will be told of their sanctions on Thursday at 10am. Funny how these panels can pinpoint how long something will take in advance. At least they finally discovered the Health and Safety Executive ruling over the weekend [cough cough].

Tom went to work. Rich and I wandered up to Headington Homewares to get something to oil the kitchen table. It’s been battered with over five years of non attention now. We came back and left the new ointment in the tin on the table. I read in the garden. Distracted by the recently shifting (small) terrain. There’s a raised slope in the grass with a 10 inch or so ‘dry stoneish’ type wall thing down the left hand side joining the slope to ground level.

A dip in the grass appeared a few days ago.

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‘Come and have a look, Rich,’ I called when I first noticed it.

He appeared, peered from the back door and said ‘Yep, it’s sunk a bit’.

Today I studied this dip every so often over the top of my book. It’s as if someone has pressed a space hopper down firmly on the slope and caused the low bank to spill out.

I ditched my book and started poking about the spillage with a trowel. Pieces of easily broken, thin, deeply rusted metal appeared just below grass level. I took some in to show Rich and Tom. Nope. No interest. They didn’t even touch them.

After another half arsed attempt at reading, I downloaded a metal detector app. Genius idea. I slowly waved my phone across the parched grass like I’ve seen people do on beaches. Red. Green, red, red.

Tom appeared in the kitchen. I told him about the app.

‘Mum, that’s never going to work’.

It does. Well it does if you get really close to metal. We used a fork to test it. Doubting Tom removed the fork hanging off the back of my phone and I went back to dig a bit more. It was hot work.

Rosie rang. ‘What’s this about you digging up the garden, mum?’

I told her about the app. We laughed and chewed the fat.

I went back to dig.

It’s hard work digging when no one digs with you.

I don’t mind. The mysteries of the past are soothing. And earthy.