Easter Sunday

 The village has been battered by storm Dave. 

Dramatically so. 

The journey to Llandudno along the A55 to night shift felt somewhat fraught.

And the wind roared over west shore, like a freight train.

It’s still roaring now and it’s just past midnight.

When I left for work I found a bag tied to the front door knob.

The bag was decorated with Easter chicks and eggs and in it was a small Easter egg and these

A Cd and book of Under Milk Wood. 

Another day, another kindness.

Its now Easter Sunday, traditionally an awfully dire memory of childhood , which centred upon chocolate ( I’m not a fan) Overlong Biblical films starting Jeffrey Hunter and bored parents.

And a light note to end with

Sometimes I stream on a site for mature gay men. It’s fun because I can hold court and discuss things such as film, the walking dead, life and the universe. The site is moderated and policed by friends who stop the riff raff and the occasional rude or suggestive comment and it’s often interesting to have a couple of hundred people from all over the world sharing their thoughts. 

This weekend I was discussing scary experiences, when a bloke from Portugal shared with a photograph that was somewhat bizarre. 

I won’t go into details but it caught me so unaware that I burst into uncontrollable hysterical laughter. A real belly laugh that stopped most people short and which created a wave of laughing amid the group. 

Matt a good friend from Denmark took a screen shot of me with the caption you are killing me today John

I laughed till I cried…..brilliant therapy for a boring Easter weekend