Bitter Christmas

Bitter Christmas is a film within a film and it is Pedro Almodóvar’s most personal film to date. An overly complicated, slightly vague and beautifully filmed drama,it features some serious introspection by an aging Spanish film maker Raul (Leonardo Sbaraglia) as he searches for inspiration for a new hit film from the life crisis of previous assistant Monica ( Ariana Sánchez-Gijón) who quite rightly takes exception to the poaching of her misfortunate stories.

Almodóvar is clearly exploring the morality of his cinematic character choices, his relationship with a much younger partner and the loyalty with his friends. The film also alludes to his sometimes fragile mental health, his panic attacks and his use of alcohol and drugs, albeit mostly explored through other characters. He also plays homage to the women in his life, his mother, his colleagues and his friends, but the final defiant statement of publish and be damned,makes me wonder just how many friends did he upset so far ? 

I treated myself to a nice supper in the Storyhouse

And texted my friend John for a film post mortem 

A Voice At The End Of The Phone

 I started work at the hospice seven years ago. This full time job saved my cottage from sale, as well as my sanity from the prospect of leaving Trelawnyd and I shall always be grateful for the hospice, who took on a retired nurse in the twilight of his career. 

I was a deputy director of a Samaritans branch back then.

And I left the charity as soon as I started to understand the stressors of the hospice 

Hospice and Samaritans don’t mix.

I worked as a Samaritan for over five years. 

In that time I talked to literally thousands of people on the phone

Just one will stick into my psychi for life.

I referred to this caller as Jim.

Jim, was a young teacher. 

He was polite and well spoken

Articulate and emotional 

And he had already taken several tablets before ringing me and told me that he wanted to hear a human voice before the medications took hold.

He told me, he was depressed. 

He told me, his class of 30 had underachieved in their exams

He told me he had failed

And he told me he had had enough of living.

A small gulp and he swallowed another tablet.

And my initial rapport felt lost, 

I found out he was sat in his car at the seaside

But he said no more. 

I tried to work out his accent 

Anything that could point to where he was in the UK.

We talked about music,

His family, his friends

And I tried every trick in the book to help him stop short

But every few minutes there was another gulp, and another tablet was swallowed.

After an hour I waved at my colleague for help and she came over to listen in

Eventually she shrugged her shoulders gently and rested her hand on my shoulder

She felt as helpless as I did.

Jim started to slur his words a little. He cried. 

And asked questions of his own, 

I asked him permission to ring for an ambulance , I asked for his location  but he refused politely, 

Knowing I could do nothing without his say so.

I talked about my dogs, a film I had seen, his favourite tv show.

And he laughed

And suddenly he said “ Goodbye John. Thank you

And the phone went dead.

I never knew what happened to Jim

I scoured the news channels daily online but failed to find out the sad tale of a young teacher’s suicide

I had a lengthy de briefing, but I knew meeting that sad polite young man on the phone that night almost crippled me 

Storm

 The storm came in from the West. 

Because of the ring of hills that surrounds Trelawnyd in the sloping  valley, the thunder when it arrives , grumbles loudly and echoes with force. 

It’s always impressive

The dogs aren’t bothered by thunder and sleep on and as the rain falls the troupe of sparrows from the field hedgerow chatter noisily as they bathe

Bun watches but from afar

I can feel the rain all the way back on the sofa 

I’m reminded of the song Missing by Everything But The Girl 

“ And I miss you………..like the desserts miss the rain….”

The thunder rumbles away slowly

And the sparrows stop their chatter

I had three counselling clients today, the last cancelled so I sneaked off to the cinema to see The Dog Stars 

Oh it was limp for apocalypse movie ! So much so I won’t even review it .

Perked

 

Well she’s perked up enough to steal some potato salad. I made a healthy supper this evening too

TikTok is rubbish

 ……but when you are lying on the couch with a poorly old dog , it sure makes you smile 

Mary slept with me again last night and remains a little shaky today . 

She’s eating and a tad breathless 

And the fire has gone out of her eyes 😒 just a little 

My old girl …..

Finlay, Meg and George

Both sides Now

 Mary collapsed this morning

One minute she was barking vaguely at a passing dog Roger had seen , and the next minute she was lying on her side in the throws of a fit. 

Her gums were blue

I scooped her up and we sat in the kitchen reading chair for an age. 

Roger’s nose pressed against my elbow 

Watching

And slowly things quietened and her breath came back to normal 

By midday she ate a small dinner of casserole beef and drank a beaten egg

She looked tired and had a wee on the living room carpet

This afternoon we listened to music on the couch, her head resting on my neck and I fed her bits of cheese which she took politely 

Bun joined us, or was it Weaver ? 

I still can’t be sure

Only one cat for the last week 

Joni Mitchell sang as we all fell asleep in a heap

Hey ho! 

How Green Is Our Valley

Richard Llewelyn wrote How Green Was My Valley even though he was English and seldom visited Wales.
I always thought that Sara Allgood who played mother Beth to be the only Welsh actor in the cast but recently I found out that she was indeed Irish. 

I always loved this scene, where her sons return home, even though , that house would have been a two up two down in real life

The rain that we’ve had overnight for the past two nights has lifted the countryside around Trelawnyd back into a hopeful green. Things feel fresh again. The Velvet Voiced Linda and her volunteers held an afternoon tea in the hall this afternoon . 

I missed it

I took a card round to the youngest Randa gal, who has got a’s and a+’s in every exam . I hear she’s planning a career in medicine. I’m so proud of that little girl who I used to make zombie cookies with and who brushed Winnie’s teeth with the Prof’s toothbrush. 

Ten years ago I wrote this blog about Liv 

Enjoy

“What made you laugh last?

Now, I'm not talking about a furtive titter at a joke, or a polite ha-ha in a casual small talk conversation here.
I am talking about an unrestrained, let rip chuckle or belly laugh that underlines a moment of pure mirth.
Yesterday I took the girls through the churchyard to see if the wedding flowers had been left around the Church door. Liv, who is Margo Channing in a 6  year old's body , skipped around the graves like an Marta from The Sound Of Music before asking about the large 13th Century Cross which stands on the South lawn.
" It's a prayer Cross" I explained, " it's where services were taken before the church was built"
Liv rolled her eyes theatrically then rather dramatically clasped her hands in prayer and knelt at the foot of the cross with all of the grace and chutzpah of a drag Audrey Hepburn in The Nun's Story.

Now this tickled me. I am not quite sure just why...I think it was all just too camp for one Wednesday afternoon to cope with , but I laughed a big belly laugh laugh all over the churchyard

When did you laugh last?
And why? ”

Let Not Poor Nellie Starve

Nell Gwynn by Jessica Swale , is a warm, witty, bawdy and at times moving romp into Nell Gwynn’s rise as London’s first leading lady actress. A former prostitute, hawker and orange saleswoman , this quick witted and humorous survivor of the slums developed as a talented actress through natural skill and sheer tenacity. Played with some gusto and cheeky charm  by Rose Shalloo the audience at the Grovernsor Out Door Theatre in Chester, warmed immediately to her rather moving scenes with King Charles 11 ( Guy Wolfe) and I think we all felt that we learned rather more about the characters than his final words of “ let not poor Nellie Starve”