Outland (1981)

One of my favourite actresses died yesterday 

Frances Sternhagen a renown stage and screen actress died aged 93. For many people she was known to play tough talking mothers( and grandmothers)  in the likes of Cheers, ER and Sex and the City but for me her film roles as the tough talking and loyal doctor to Sean Connery’s hero cop  in Outland and as Irene Reppler the 80 year old feisty home made flame thrower  heroine in the monster movie horror The Mist that stand out for me 

She will be missed

In The Mood

A local business sponsored our Christmas Tree at the hospice which was kind. And they set it up tonight which was also kind. My sister has been busy making wreaths for the Trelawnyd Fair and I see
 

That the Village Christmas Tree has been erected outside the hall, 

It looks cheerful enough.

The support worker I’ve been working with tonight brought me a curried Scotch egg

Which was bloody lovely.

At home tonight, my festive penguin is the centre of my decorations . I will never have a tree at home if there’s just me to see it, 

Happy Christmas xxxx 2023

 

     

This is my Christmas Card for you

My Followers

Of Happy Times when a man could love his turkey

freely and without prejudice

Its been a funny old year this year all told...... suffice to say that despite all of the shit in this world, this little part of North Wales plods along at its own particular pace and in its own inimitable way. 

There is something constant about things here, 

Going Gently isn't a notable blog, I have no insightful news references, no waspish political satire to share. it remains what it is ...a bit of whimsey where an ageing old spinster homo can complain about "cheap Christmas cards hastily written" in a world where Christmas Cards suddenly seem a creature of the past.

Idiots

Well last night’s blog entry went well.  

Apologies for not adding spoiler alert to the title.

I’ve now lost a half dozen followers 

Hey ho

Serves me right for me trying to be current.

I’m an idiot 

I’m on nights tonight, so will just potter cheaply today. I’ve had to buy a laptop for college which was a necessary but naive expense . 

Why can’t you do everything on an iPad ? I asked 

Well you can’t 

Plain and simple is the reply.

My machine is second hand and rebooted and sorted so will fit in quite nicely when I’m feeling pretentious and want to bang away at my homework in the Storyhouse cafe. 

I thought of going this morning but that’s just an extravagance. 

It’s fickle too.

And I bloody hate fickle. 

You see fickle all of the time here on social media.

Secretive and private bloggers who regurgitate great swathes of private information moments after they demand with a thin lipped, emotional just don’t ask . 

I can’t be doing with it.

I’m annoyed this morning can’t you tell? The guy who always lets his overactive spaniel loose on the walkways did so again this morning. He’s an idiot and although he accepts that his dog bothers other dogs by running into them and sticking his nose up their arses ,all he does is shout at his dog and move on. 

Dorothy and Mary have both bitten this dog several times , a fact that upsets me more that anything else. 

The dog needs to be on a lead, for his own safety. 

“ You’re  the arsehole not YOUR dog” I told him this morning, a somewhat ruder précis of the situation that the polite ones I’ve taken beforehand.

I’ve even changed the times the dogs and I take a walk so we don’t meet him

Some people are just fucking idiots

Out with anger

In with love

Matty

 

It’s really winter as Bake Off  has just finished and although the contestants this year have been a little bland it was nice to see the gentle , cheerful,  tattooed young teacher Matty win

My vote was always for Saku who acted as though she’d just stepped from an Ealing Comedy but I hope that scores of young men and boys in the country would now see Matty as a credible role model. 

I hope so

16.18

 

It’s almost twenty minutes past four

The cottage is almost dark inside, with just the gloom of late dusk illuminating my desk and grandfather clock. My knee is paining, so I sit in the miserable light for a while and write the blog .

And I hate this moment 

Almost as much as I’ve ever hated anything….ever! 

The gloom of getting home to an empty house in winter.

No cat’s tail swishing angrily against my calves 

No sharp paws 

No excited yelps and bouncy smiles from the dogs.

Home has to be reclaimed from the cold and the night

Bit by bit

Room by room 

The dinosaur fairy lights first, then the log fire, and the lamps in the living room.

The washing machine next then the radio, 

And the big Sitges bulb with its orange glow

All returning the cottage into a living place

The dogs trot in, heads up, expecting dinner

And we are complete again

My dogs and I…

And home

 

Christmas

 I’m late blogging today 

A hard shift yesterday 

An early night and a day in the library yet again .

My essay is in though, and I’m pleased. 

This week is another mixture of work, college and village

Two nights at work, college all day tomorrow with a recorded counselling skills practice to film and send in, and on Saturday it’s one of the/last set pieces for the TCA this year and that’s the Christmas Fayre 

My Mr Bumble Victorian outfit had been ordered a while ago and should be delivered by Wednesday and Bridget hits that we have a snow machine ordered !!! Which should be fun. 

A couple of the TCA lads ( lads!!! Older than me) 

Climbed up the village green trees to hang fairly lights in preparation 

It’s suddenly feeling like Christmas 

Perry

 

Clever, convoluted , witty, and challenging Grayson Perry proved to be a talented stand up comedian ,albeit one dressed as a clown crossed with Violet Elizabeth Bott.

He also enjoyed singing several home grown songs and the object of his attention was how we see ourselves , our identity, a subject I’m sure his wife helped him with, her being a psychologist of some note.

Perry is a trouper and an unapologetic storyteller

Who loved to call himself what he is, a national Treasure 

An interesting evening all told, even though Colin and I had to hurry a rather impressive meal at the Blackburn’s Arms beforehand. 

I got home around 11.30 pm and contemplated popping in to affable despot Jason’s daughter Eve’s 18th down in Dyserth. 

It was too late of course to go,  I’m on a long day in the morning , and I had called around yesterday to give Eve her gift and card, getting a lovely hug in return.