Me me me

 I watched the opening night of Manon live from the Royal Opera House at Scala Cinema today. Not quite as good as their 2024 version but a powerful watch in the cinema 

I’ve been a bad friend to someone very dear. 

So preoccupied I have felt with the catheter and eye appointments and leg bags, blood sugars and tiredness and lack of money, I’ve taken my eye off the ball and let mutual support drift, allowing myself to retreat back into the world of Bwthyn y llan, where the basics are met, but little else is looked at. 

Manon was a nice diversion, but I’ve let normal things slide, and I’ve known that. 

Invoices not sent, tax returns were late, emails and texts not answered.

Today , it’s taken effort to catch up with paperwork and to remember another friend’s birthday .

I’ve known it for a little while but have pretended to myself everything’s ok.

It’s not ok. I’ve let my friend down 

She knows it.

I know it. 

In my defence, I have to admit that living alone sometimes warps your perspective on things. 

You can slowly lose that “ bounce effect” 

When dollops of reality can be held up in front of you that you have missed

“ I’ve messaged you several times” my friend reminded me today 

And suddenly I realised that she had and the ball was always in my court. 

I’ve been self pitying, and self absorbed and lazy and sad

And several of you have shown their concerns here about my affect

I’ve had things of concern on my mind true….

But so have my loved ones…..

Tonight , an other friend accompanied me to see Manon 

Gave me a Yorkshire fat Rascal as a gift. 

“Buck up” she said kindly as we parted

And I thought to myself , 

I Bloody Will Try 

60 seconds of Stormy Wales

The storm remains blustery 

And the garden is now a brown/ green  rather than a green green,

The fat man flying 

Remains flying

 

Sunrise sunset

 I’ve seen the Devine Midler in New York and her version of Sunrise Sunset will capture a lovely moment I had on a gay streaming app earlier in the week

I was feeling rather flat and chatted to Polish actor and theatrical director Dominek about our favourite pieces of theatre 

Fiddler on the Roof came up and suddenly we found ourselves singing the pivotal Sunrise Sunset a song that reflects on growing up, of family, community  and of faith. 

He with a tea towel on his head me with a pair of oyster oven gloves wrapped over my ears, it was a joyful moment of madness which brightened the mood

It’s so good to laugh, I only wish I’d videoed it

Apple Fest

Roger and I got to the festival slightly late because of night shift

Lovely video by Kelda, and well supported given the atrocious weather

Roger cuddled Mrs Trellis ( who was on wash up detail) when I had a cup of tea and a egg bab )

I wish he was my teacher

 

Warsaw 1981

Lovers of Hitchcock and his ability to film an ordinary hero types well out of his depth will enjoy Kasia Adamik’s Cold War thriller Winter Of The Crow . Set in 1981 against the backdrop of Poland’s martial law Winter, we follow the unlikely tail of prissy 60 something psychiatrist Joan  ( Lesley Manville) who has been invited by revolting university students to lecture on her special treatments of schizophrenic patients . As the tanks roll in, Joan is trapped in the faceless industrial hinterland with no passport, no translator and after witnessing a murder of a student activist and with the military police at her heels. She is drawn into a cat and mouse chase in a snowy Warsaw.

The film is a bit uneven, even unbelievable at times, but as the intellectual Joan , who suddenly has to rely on her physical strength, guile and cunning, Manville is a real delight, and as we entered the excruciating. Scene where she physically fights her police protagonist to the death , Hitchcock would have been very proud .

I needed a day away from Wales today . Last night I went to book club, and mein Host got himself into such a flap as only three people out of eight turned up and he’d made a ton of tapas , it was painful to deal with his adult tantrum. I decided I’m not going again 

Jesus! Fucking queens ! 

I found the following photo of Mary’s welcome to Bwthyn y llan 

My dear girl ……

6 Years

 This is my favourite photograph of Trelawnyd 

It’s a photo of some of my favourite people not the buildings

Of course I can add many more to these numbers to be sure,

But here is a hard core so to speak 

Facebook reminded me this photo was taken 6 years ago

At the height of Covid, when the velvet voiced Linda ( far left) organised the village warden group with some charm and grace into a well oiled machine for good, helped ably by a backroom team of dozens

I had the photo framed as a thank you to Linda and she has it in her front room 

An example what how essentially good ordinary people are

Linoprint

 

Ma Manley has produced another linoprint of Trelawnyd Church

I didn’t sleep today after work, and finally got up around 2pm for coffee. 

I’m sat at the kitchen table, nursing a mug as a gaggle of Canada Geese fly over the village honking loudly.

I miss the sleek lines of Camilla Parker Bowles ( the goose not the Queen to be) 

Her dark plumage always reminded me of seal skin

It’s the apple festival on Saturday and I’m off so will go

A live screening of Manon is on in the cinema too

Loved The Archers tonight , Vince trapped under a tree in a storm with only the valiant Chelsea Horrobin to help…radio 4 at its best…not a special effect in sight