Rainbow light

 I’m so tired. Just two trained staff at the hospice today and eight complex patients. I got home late , ate a scotch egg in the car before getting out, still in my uniform and then had a mooch around the houses of Cwm Road to see if I could locate Weaver . 

A big yowl rang out ,but it was a lonely Bun welcoming me home not Weaver . She looks stressed and on edge without her sister but came into the cottage to feed. She even let Roger sniff her bottom ( a favourite pastimes of Welsh terrier dogs as I recall) so distracted she is . 

Last night she curled up on my fat left foot 

I found a rainbow light by my front door …..another late birthday gift from sister Janet . 

It looks lovely but she apologised as instead of the Gay Rainbow flag I presumed it represented she worried I’d thought she was referring to the rainbow Bridge over which all pets walkover on their last journey . 

I hope Weaver has voted with her feet, and found a loving new home who puts up with antisocial behaviours . 

But sadly I really do think she’s dead

Weaver

Weaver has gone missing

I’m not too sure , but I think she’s been gone at least two days if not three.

I’ve had a niggling doubt for 24 hours but with two cats that are identical in size, colour

and tail length, and one with a habit of hiding away in her own bedroom, it wasn’t easy to work out , 

but now I’m sure. 

I’ve searched the surrounding streets, church and lane and have put a plea on the village 

Facebook site

 

Disclosure Day

 Spoilers ! 

Steven Spielberg at 78 has returned to his Close Encounters days with this Hitchcockian conspiracy theory romp which revisits every alien abduction story since the 1947 Roswell Incident

I won’t bother you with the convoluted and silly plot, suffice to say Brits Emily Blunt ( as weather gal Margaret Fairchild ) and Josh O’Connor (as maths analyst Danial Kellner) are two strangers that come together very much like the Richard Dreyfuss and Melinda Dillon characters in Close Encounters to save the planet from its own introspection death wish. 

As it turns out all the alien visitation theories were right and after much convoluted chasing Blunt and O’Connor revisit their childhoods ( a Spielberg theme) to do the right thing in sharing the information . 

You can see quite clearly that Spielberg had fun with this movie . Echo's of North by Northwest, Close Encounters, and ET , come to mind, with signature  background music by John Williams completing the nostalgia ( I can’t believe he’s in his nineties! ) 

Blunt couldn’t be better here, she really is a versatile actress and will be a national treasure rather soon! and the set pieces ( The train sequence especially) is pure Spielberg . But as a whole movie , I was slightly disappointed . 

As Janet and I left an old man behind me summed up his feelings 

“ Independence Day was better”

Bitch Slapped

Yesterday,  Beautiful New York Lee talked about the three men and one woman she bitch slapped in a long rather exciting life. Now while we all don’t condone physical violence, sometimes I think we have all been pushed into physical confrontations sometimes in our lives. 

After all we are all bloody human . 

I have slapped one man in my life. I sucker punched another. The punch was a result of a previous partner pulling a knife at me during a drunken rage ( fuck that! I flattened the fucker ) the other was a slap I regret but I was provoked

On reflection I have only slapped one woman in anger. It was in 1987 in York and I was drunk at the bar in Roxy’s nightclub ….a rather inebriated trans drag queen poked me then slapped me to move and I looked at her and said “ sorry mum” ( she did look like my mother complete with facial hair ) 

I slapped her back , and in the afterglow got bitch slapped again for my trouble .

I woke up with a black eye and a fat lip, lol, she was a tough old bird

Papa LEON

 I’m not religious, I’m agnostic but I have an interest and a kind of envy of real faith. 

The welcome to Pope Leon by the Spanish was a joyous thing to watch and experience and I was careful to rely on my non verbal skills to get a personal flavour of the man behind the title. 

To me he is a humble man. He is awkward with standing ovations but has a natural simple warmth with people. He isn’t shy but has a cautious way about him. 

I warmed to him, despite the showbiz welcome

An Email

 Ps

On the back of yesterday’s post, I will share these paragraphs from an email from a reader which rather moved me.

“I don’t need to shop for food items, but I pretend to. A chat to the teller can be quite engaging as long as they aren’t too busy to share a conversation. I try to alternate stores too because I don’t want to be known as the sad lady who chatters far too much.

There was a talk at the bookstore last week and even though I’m not a reader of fiction , I went for something to do. The author looked shy and ill at ease, so I spent time sharing anecdotes with her and she hugged me, with one of grateful hugs which made me burst into tears right THERE AND THEN. I’m not a crier John but I cry every day John, every single day.

I cry when I read of your village, and wish I was there. I cry when I will miss Mary, a dog I have never met and I cry when you do something kind for someone because I wish you were doing it to me.

Is that sad? 

I read many blogs of worth which give me company but I don’t comment even though I was once a person of some minor note in the academic field. A wife, agood friend, a person of interest who could hold her own at a faculty cocktail party full of strangers. 

Your blog touched a nerve with me yesterday, and if I wore a bra ever again. I would hike it up, like you have often done in Going Gently and will try to solider on as you do.” 

Loneliness

 From time to time loneliness will feature in Going Gently. It invades one’s life like the process of osmosis dampens a piece of blotting paper, and brings you up short when it is least expected. 

It is insidious, and evil sometimes. Other moments it’s a minor irritation that can be shrugged off by a radio programme, a knock on the lane window or the ping of a phone message.

I hate Sunday afternoons on night duty. You wake up to a silent cottage around five. The dogs have already been collected that morning by Trendy Carol’s husband, and the cats are mute. 

Asleep on the sofa, where the dogs are not present. 

It’s that first buzzing of silence when awake, which is the worst thing

It’s louder than any noise known to man

It’s a lonely sound. 

I shower, and brush my teeth loudly. 

Today I make eggs on toast and coffee and Pick of the Week and The Archers will be on Radio 4 soon. 

I reclaim my isolation slowly. I look at the thirty birthday cards still standing on the kitchen windowsill . A message. From Chic Eleanor requesting my company at the Theatre on Thursday, is welcome. And there are more notes waiting to be read from Nu and The German and more Sheffield old friends.

I collect the dogs, it’s the village dog show on Saturday and Roger needs a haircut…. , so I’m out on Wednesday ( cinema) Theatre on Thursday and show on Saturday with long days at the hospice Friday and Sunday

The week is full and Mr Loneliness is thwarted another week

Saturday

 This is perhaps the lisping choir at its very best. Conductor Sylvia Sans Torre shines as they perform at their best with that final one note held long and with confidence.

Time To say Goodbye has never sounded better.

Kelda from the still house was on Radio 4 ‘s Today Programme just before 9 am was interviewed about loneliness . It was a brief interview but she held her end up very well I thought.

The village Go Green group summer planting has come through in the community field and the beds around the hall now look fully stocked and fabulous

I need to get back in volunteering for the village, I’ve taken a back seat for a while.