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
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
Hill House
Adapted from Shirley Jacksons best seller and the 1963 film version The Haunting, The Haunting Of Hill House is a suitably spooky and rather chilling piece of theatre. Set during a paranormal research month, an empty, supposedly haunted house is studied by Dr Montigue and his wife ( Jasper Britten and Gemma Churchill) and along to help is sassy lesbian Theodora ( Sophie Lenglinger) the house’s soon to be owner Luke ( Robin Morissey) and the brittle, griefing but psychic Eleanor ( Clancy Ryan ) and as they explore the house’s secrets they are faced with some increasingly frightening paranormal experiences as well as Eleanor’s disintegrating psychi and mental health.
I loved it, as it was a real cinematic romp with lighting and video experts Chris Davy and Duncan McClean providing a real sense of a warping and surreal gothic American house, in between well acted and dramatic set pieces.
The visual effects were truly impressive!
Some wonderfully playfully special effects added to the horror, and I must admit to be baffled when an innocuous shoulder wrap suddenly leapt from the floor to fly with pinpoint precision to land perfectly centred around Eleanor’s neck.
A wonderful bit of theatre
Clancy Ryan as the harried Eleanor was a find as was Sophie Lenginger as Theodora and both gave every bit of a performance as Julie Harris and Claire Bloom did in the film version but without the true and necessary hysteria
My sister Janet came with me and left me with this message when she got home
Scared the shir out of myself driving home ..leaving Trelawyd I switched to full beam...hurtling along at 40mph I must have twisted the stick with out realising ( I don't drive at night tbf ) and was plunged into darkness ..panicking I couldn't get the back on ..my legs were like jelly when I got home lol
The German would have loved it
My Best Blog: The Resurrected Rubber Chicken
Old Mary and her chicken
Yesterday I bought Mary a rubber chicken
I couldn’t really justify its £4.95 price ticket
But I thought what the hell.
The old gal used to love Rubber chickens when she was a youngster
I cried when she played with it for an age ….
As she suddenly lost her blindness and aching legs
She was a puppy again
Who took the chicken to bed during Celebrity Traitors
Winnie and Mary with the original chicken
Again , I’m in nostalgia mode ,
I am reminded of Winifred and her beloved rubber chicken
See this blog entry from 2020
“Winnie’s Rubber Chicken is being framed for eternity .
I have thought this strange thought ever since I found rubber chicken next to Winnie on the kitchen floor just before Christmas. It’s kind of become synonymous with my dear old girl.
I rang the picture framer the day before yesterday, (the one I’ve used for years ) and asked if it was possible to do
“ You want to frame a rubber chicken behind glass” the picture framer repeated slowly after I had thrown the proposal to him
“ Yes” I told him cheerfully “ it was Winnie’s favourite “
The fact , that he might think that this question was in any way odd surprised me, after all I could have rang him with the request that he framed the last surviving slipper of sex, which I had incidentally found amid a ton of fluff under the bed only a month ago
The picture framer then ventured into territory he wasn’t quite prepared for.
“Do you want an insert into the frame some wording .” He asked
Oh that’s a good idea” I told him. “What about the following”
“ Winifred Salote Taupo III Queen of Tonga 200? - 2020 “
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone
“ I think we can do that “ the picture framer said finally and rather weakly
He then paused, obviously thinking
“ What colour frame would you like ? “ he asked
“ Pink!” I announced loudly
“ Of course!” he sighed “ Of Course you do “
Tonight I’m going to Theatr Clwyd to see the thriller “ The Haunting Of Hill House”
The German is intrigued
Girls Girls and Girls
Elizabeth Spriggs
I had to laugh the other day.
Someone described Going Gently as a "woman's" blog......
They also mentioned in no uncertain terms that it was homophobic, which is an interesting take on a sixty four year homosexual with a dog called Roger, but I will leave that argument well and truly alone.
I am not bothered that Going Gently could be seen as "feminine"...given the content I will take that description as a compliment.....as I have always enjoyed the company of women to that of men. Now I can do "men" as it were, friendshipwise, be sure on that! Out of perhaps nine close friends I have, four are male and out of those only one is gay, (another mate is sooooooooooooooo showbiz and a self confessed old queen he's as good a gay as you can hope for)..... but the rest , of course, are ladies!
Like Many gay men I was surrounded by women when I was growing up ( oh I know I am generalising here- so don't write in)....My mother was a bit of a drama queen in the style of Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce whereas my maternal grandmother played a cross between Jane Darwell in The Grapes Of Wrath and actress Elizabeth Spriggs ( google her). Of course my twin sister and Elder Sister were always around like the cast of Little Women ( I would have been the irritating Amy..though I always saw myself as the virtuous Beth) and in the wings there was also a selection of strong aunts, family friends an a diminuative paternal grandmother to back up the oestrogen levels
Here, on the blog I am surrounded by fellow like minded bloggers , the majority being women, and its lovely.
Of course, as in my real friendships ( and I mean that nicely) I have a few guy friends here that are well and truly connected to their sensitive sides, and I sure that they wont mind me saying this, but the majority of buddies are non nonsense "garls!" with the odd wise cracking gay thrown in........just the way I like it!
Who Was Auntie Glad
Yesterday I was asked by a new reader who auntie Glad was?
They had seen my reference to her in my blog bio ( see right)
I will share this piece with them, I think it will do nicely…..
She was in her mid eighties back then and was selling her Flower Show raffle tickets around the village and its surrounds.
She would sell four to five hundred in consecutive afternoons
This was back in 2006
The Jungle telegraph had alerted to most that there was a new Gay couple in the village
I bought a strip off her
"How marvellous" she cried…It is the law!”
yes....how bloody marvellous!
The Jungle telegraph had alerted to most that there was a new Gay couple in the village
I bought a strip off her
She was tiny. White hair, a bit windswept, thin hands, a red woollen coat worn for many years with matching red lipstick
And I noticed even back then that she had watery, gentle blue eyes, that were full of interest and candor
" Does your friend want any tickets too?" she asked , her eyes twinkling and I was half amused by the term "friend" a word which was often bandied around by people too shy or too uncomfortable to call a spade a spade
Only Gladys was not uncomfortable, she was just searching for the right word to use
"He is my partner and not a friend and yes he will have some tickets from you" I told her kindly
Gladys laughed
"I was going to call him your boyfriend " she said "but you are both far too old to be called that!!!"
At 96, on the day of our marriage, the old girl walked all the way down from her house on High Street to present me with a wedding gift over the kitchen wall and when I remarked that I never thought I would see the day that two men would be allowed to Marry each other
she clapped her frail hands together and laughed her musical Welsh laugh and with her blue eyes twinkling she then held her hands to her chin
Only Gladys was not uncomfortable, she was just searching for the right word to use
"He is my partner and not a friend and yes he will have some tickets from you" I told her kindly
Gladys laughed
"I was going to call him your boyfriend " she said "but you are both far too old to be called that!!!"
At 96, on the day of our marriage, the old girl walked all the way down from her house on High Street to present me with a wedding gift over the kitchen wall and when I remarked that I never thought I would see the day that two men would be allowed to Marry each other
she clapped her frail hands together and laughed her musical Welsh laugh and with her blue eyes twinkling she then held her hands to her chin
"How marvellous" she cried…It is the law!”
yes....how bloody marvellous!
Gladys opening the Flower Show
2016
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