Friday, 29 May 2015

Two Scotch Eggs in my Underpants

This is a postscript to this morning's post.
I got up from a deep sleep at 4.30pm
and looked like the wreck of the Hesperus when I led the sleepy dogs down the
Through the window on the front door, I noticed that something had been 
left tied for me around the front door handle, so thinking that Auntie
Gladys had been at work with her scones I opened the door.
There all wrapped up inside a small container 
were two exquisite looking scotch eggs and a card

They were absolutely delicious and tasted like nectar.
Your kind gift has made my day
I sat on the damp grass in the front garden in my underpants and ate them both
with my eyes shut!
Thank you

One of the eggs waiting to be scoffed!

What Do You Do When You're Sad?

I've been feeling somewhat sad over the last few days. I'm not unhappy, but I do feel sad and it's not like me at all. I am tired, which doesn't help. Meg, like many old  dogs, seems to be unsettled and restless overnight, and more floor puddles have been appearing in the middle of the night despite a late toileting regime .
I am working nights this weekend which doesn't help either!

When I am sad, I regress to a place of comfort. Some people eat ( I'd kill for a scotch egg just now) others sit in the pub...but for me....comfort comes from the movies. Escapist, stories of other lives and adventures.

My lonely teenage years 
Was filled with big action fantasy high camp disaster movies!

It's a habit that has served me well over the years!

The film of choice today would have been " Jurassic World" dinosaur mayhem and the delightful Chris Pratt with his dimples could have been the ideal panacea a wet Friday's blues but the soddin film doesnt come out until the 15th of June so I had to made do with an online troll for something interesting.

Chris Pratt and big dinosaurs! Bliss!

What I found was a sweet little indie film called " Pitstop" a film that scooped a whole lot of awards from several international film festivals over the last couple of years.
Pitstop tells the story of two middle aged gay men living in the same backwater Texan town. Gabe ( Bill Heck) is a carpenter who lives a quiet existence with his ex wife and daughter. As his wife  now best friend ( Amy Seimetz) embarks on a tentative relationship with a co worker  Gabe's closeted gay life leaves him feeling increasingly lonely as he mourns the loss of a failed relationship with a married man.
Meanwhile across town we see factory worker Ernesto ( Marcus DeAnda)  who finds himself in the death throws of a relationship with the much younger and directionless Luis.
Through a set of understated and not fully explained scenes, the two men lead very drab and
unfulfilled lives , and don't actually meet up together until the very last quarter of the movie, after they hook up on the net. It is only then, quite unexpectedly, that the film suddenly seems full of  hope for the couple who  find themselves part of something that could become rather special.

What do you do when you're sad?
Answers on a postcard 

Thursday, 28 May 2015


No news day today,
Dog haircuts completed, the cost has gone up!
Rude moronic shop girl smiled at because I couldn't be arsed saying something.
Dinner cooked,
Rhubarb swapped for some chicken feed.
Gardening done,
I'm now wandering through youtube
And have just enjoyed Estonia's Entry in Eurovision
Oh the excitement!

Wednesday, 27 May 2015

Finlay @ Christmas

Some animals get under your skin
For recent readers, I post this, my favourite photo of Finlay
He was sitting on the couch watching tv when I snapped this pic of him and father Christmas
It made a lovely Christmas card
I still miss him...he broke my heart

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--'ve given your heart for a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart for the dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear? 


A Happy Dog

I was reading Yorkshire Pud's blog last night and was reminded of  an area in Sheffield I used to know very well. YP rented an allotment off Hagg Hill, which was the back road between the surburbs of Crooks and Walkley and Rivlin Valley which led into Hillsborough.
At rush hour these essentially country roads were often gridlocked with commuters so  the usual five minute journey across the valley could take a frustrating half hour or so.
Back in 2002, we had only one dog, a bouncy, lively Welsh Terrier called Finlay.
Finlay loved Traffic jams , for it was the only time he was " allowed" to drive the car.
Ok when I say drive the car, he used to sit on my knee with his paws on the steering wheel and his head out of the open window, a position of power where he could  watch the world move slowly by as we edged our way through the traffic home.
His happiness of this simple little treat always made my day.
On one of these treat days, We were spotted by the traffic police. I never saw the policecar behind me, so the sharp knock on the window threw me slightly
I wound down the window fully and Finlay stuck his head out to say hello to a slightly amused policeman
" What are you doing? " the policeman asked as Finlay smiled broadly at him with big goo goo eyes.
" He likes to drive" I said lamely
" Has he past his test?" The policeman asked
" well  no but , I do the peddles for him " I tried to be funny
" In the back" the policeman ordered with a smile, and before he walked back to his car he kissed Finlay very gently on the head.

Such is the power of a cute happy dog!

Finlay, a few hours before his death  in 2007

Tuesday, 26 May 2015

Homo Twin

It's my birthday on Monday.
Apparently I share it with the likes of Marilyn Monroe, Morgan Freeman, Lori from The Walking Dead and the famous cinematic pirate Robert Newton!
I also share it with my twin sister Janet.
Janet and John
( who said that my parents didn't have a sense of humour)
Funnily enough I am a twin born under a sign of " The Twins" ...whether that is auspicious in itself, bugger alone knows .
Personally, I think it's all a pile of shit
As you may be able to tell , I have little time for astrology
According to the literature
These are typical Gemini traits!

  • A passion for novelty
  • A curious disposition
  • Socially outgoing
  • Witty in speech and prone to banter
  • Creative and quick to task
  • Emotionally unreachable and difficult to pin down
How many people can tick these boxes? Looking at the list , I think only three apply to me.
Perhaps the more negative gemini traits suit me better?
You decide


Apparantly , because we were always dressed in white as babies, my sister and I were given the nickname the " Omo Twins" by townfolk
An Omo twin? ......perhaps people in 1962 Prestatyn knew something I didn't until the 1980s

Monday, 25 May 2015

Simple pleasure

It was when I was listening to the Cricket match on The Archers
that I noticed something small but rather sweet to blog about going on in the back garden.
Amongst the aqulegia , and the Welsh poppies William was happily chasing
bumble bees with a big silly smile upon his face.