Busy, Busy , Busy

The words " prolific blogger" have been used on occasion to describe me by some. I think the term has been applied , purely by my habit of writing something here everyday.
It's an old habit now, and one that is literally part of everyday routine.
It's a case of , morning jobs, breakfast coffee and blog.
To some blogging suggests " too much time on ones hands" ( this has been said more than once I can tell you) but I would beg to differ. Writing a diary, (and blogs are essentially diaries are they not?) has become an essential part of my day. It's downtime, it's coffee time and it takes generally fifteen minutes max to complete (btw I am timing myself today and will put the time spent writing this tosh at the end)
I think I am busy for most of the day.... But last night I was reminded that others are considerably busier than I ........to them, fifteen minutes with a coffee and an empty blog screen would be a blissful adventure!)
Last night I helped Chris isolate priorities and deadlines in his workload.
He called out the jobs. I sat there like Miss Moneypenny and took the notes.
It didn't take that long.....( I was worried because The Great British Bake Off started at 8pm) but like I said it was a reminder of just how hard he works and what pressures he is under.
There was a conference to organise here, and  phD supervision so to complete there. Studies and papers needed writing and meetings needed chasing up...and I haven't even thought about how he was to fit in a foreign trip and presentation as well as work in London and Other parts of Wales and England...
No wonder Winnie's incontinence the other night  almost sent him to a rubber room!

Having said all this , I think we make a good team. He kicks ass in his academic world and I make a mean apple pie. Chalk and Cheese. Ying and Yang. Abbott and Costello......Lady Mary & Carson, Shelley Winters and Twiggy..........
Ok ok you get my drift....
So have I been busy today?
Well........y e s.....I have......I've made Jam and a crumble from bartered raspberries,done the week's shop, cut the lawn, washed windows, walked the dogs twice, cleaned coops, collected eggs, prepared supper, given a sick hen her twice daily antibiotic therapy, chipped the stray dog turd from the kitchen floor ( William's a bastard for a sneaky dump)
I have taken my bike in for a service ( Chris's will be done next Tuesday) and I am just about to prune the buddlea in the front garden before I clean out the log burner and sort out the recycling bins.
I am strong...I am invincible ....I am househusband MAN!
And I am not complaining....that's the deal... I have had time to sit in a sunny front garden to type this with another sneaky coffee.....whist looking back at a 17th Century cottage with honeysuckle and roses around the door ( and the occasional dog pee on the carpets)

It has taken me exactly 22 minutes btw ( and another 3 to fanny arse away taking the photo)

How lucky am I

Meg watching me carefully with her failing eyes

With honeysuckle over the door

Au Revoir Les Enfants

I don't know much about Louis Malle's film career but I did sort of knew that Au Revoir Les Enfants (1987) was one of his "coming of age" movies, but that was about all.
Nigel sent me a copy of the movie for my birthday, so knowing his love of quality, I thought I would enjoy it.
Today the weather has been atrocious. This morning I did all the household jobs, walked the dogs, made a meat pie for tea and fed and watered all of the animals as they hid away in the coops and bushes out of the rain. The only good thing is that the field pond has now almost full (above)
So steaming after getting soaked, I sat down with a towel and a hot cup of tea and indulged myself with 100 minutes of French movie.
Au Revoir Les Enfants is striking as it captures the cold, cruelty and pettiness seen within a boys' school ( and by saying cruelty I mean the little acts of harshness that occurs constantly when little boys are forced to spend time together) but balances this with a very real and recognisable friendship between Julien Quentin and Jean Bonet (Gaspard Manesse and Raphael Fejtö)

Quentin is homesick for his mother and is a smart and angry boy. Bonet is a quiet, lonely academic and one of several hidden Jewish borders. The date is 1944 and the Germans are looking for any Jewish citizens not already interned.

The story is simple enough, and from the very beginning the audience can guess where the plot is heading; that much is clear, however it is the realism of a child's point of view that cuts to the quick in this movie. The boys' roles with all of their their whims and contradictions are beautifully portrayed by the two leads, and the loss of innocence by the tortured Quentin when the Germans finally seek out the truth, is truly heartbreaking.

8.5 out of 10

Diary Of A 1950s Welsh Housewife

I get up before the Prof and make sure I am neat and tidy for the day ahead.
I check my reflection in the bathroom mirror before anything else
Hair perfect....make up discreet .....apron straight!
Now to prepare breakfast.
The Prof has his boiled egg and soldiers in bed with a strong cup of sweet tea, he is reading Boffin's Weekly.
I wake the children. They are such naughty children too as none of them want to get out of bed in the mornings! No pancakes for Winifred this morning as I notice she has put on too much weight recently. An extra few laps around the hockey pitch is the order of the day me thinks.
Men don't want to see extra large knickerbockers airing on the clotheshorse do they?
That sort of thing gets their roving eyes started .
After checking that William, Mary and baby George have washed behind their ears, it's a brisk walk around the village before breakfast and out they go to play.

I need to get cracking with my chores.
After quick race around with the old ewbank and some elbow grease with a duster and the house is looking all spick and span. I change into a clean apron and bang out a dozen jam tarts and meat pie before running hubby a nice hot bath.
I've already laid out a fresh cardigan for him to wear.
While he soaks I pop on my coat and hat and picking up my wicker basket I trot to the village shop.
Mrs Trellis is buying her usual quarter of tea and a French fancy as I wait in line.
Tut tut tut I think , " a moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips !" But I say nothing...I'm far too nice.
Mr Jason the shopkeeper gives me a wink and says he's got a Cumberland sausage just in with my name on it, we laugh gayly.
I politely refuse Mr Jason's sausage and purchase instead three slices of ham and a tomato for the Prof's tea. Keeping your man fed and watered is the sure way to maintain a happy marriage my
mother always told me....oh and acting like a right whore in the bedroom helps a bit too!

To be continued......

A Blog Conversation

I was going to do a film review tonight but after washing my face, donning one of my neat birthday shirts and driving to Theatre Clwyd 
I found out that I'd got the date wrong and the place was silent except for a noisy kids production set up in a big inflatable globe!
I came home again and put on my pyjama bottoms
Hey ho

This is a subsequent blog conversation between three friends

John Gray5 June 2018 at 21:57

I once fell asleep on a bus with a mini pork pie in my mouth 

ReplyDelete

Replies

1. 
   Rachel Phillips5 June 2018 at 22:05

   If I'd been there I might have drawn a sketch of you. I have a sketch of a man asleep with his mouth open and a woman stuffing her face on a train. 
2. 
   Tom Stephenson5 June 2018 at 22:08

   I fell asleep whilst shagging once. The relationship didn't last very long.
3. 
   Rachel Phillips5 June 2018 at 22:10

   I read a book at the same time once. That one didn't last long either.

Co-op Hillsborough

I once saw a woman in the co op in Hillsborough pay for a stranger's shopping.
I was at the back of the queue at the checkout and a rather shabby middle aged guy in front was searching and re searching  his pockets to pay for such basic tidbits as milk and bread and a tinned meat pie.
He looked pained and embarrassed
Quietly a youngish mother in front of me leaned forward and without fuss told the checkout girl to put the items on her bill.
I heard her say " it's ok .its ok"  to the shabby man, who looked as though he was about to cry
It was all over a minute later.
As she was packing her own shopping I caught her eye briefly  and smiled " That was very kind " 
I told her
" we all need a little kindness "  the woman answered before she and her children walked off...
I remember thinking just what a lovely lesion in life that woman had shared with her children that day at the checkout in Hillsborough's tired old co op

Who says men can't multi task?

It's been a busy day. With Chris' colleague coming to stay later, "operation dog snot removal" has been continued with renewed vigour. Beds have been made, dusting has been done and various doggy stains and smells removed with much scrubbing and bleaching!
In between all this I managed to separate the three definite juvenile cockerels from out of the St Trinian group and take them to the wildlife animal centre on the other side of Flintshire. I couldn't quite face the prospect of culling these skinny little hybrids as none have any meat on them, and I knew that the chap that runs the rescue centre has a big hen house with room enough for some lucky bachelors.......yes I know...we both are a bit of a soft touch

I came home, walked the goslings and after them, the dogs then made a load of home made fishcakes from scratch AND an apple pie (God I am good!, read 'em and weep Delia Smith)...

This afternoon I have dug up another bucket of potatoes, delivered duck eggs to Ann ( to make the cakes for her Flower Show) and cleaned the detritus from inside the Berlingo.......The state of the car would make a gladiator faint believe me!
I am now writing this ( with my first coffee of the day) then I am off to deliver more eggs, buy some milk and cream from the supermarket and then clean out the duck house before walking the dogs again.
Only then I will have time to recheck the guest bedroom ( George thoughtfuly pooed in there this morning),and scrub the toilet!

...............and people wonder why I only work one shift in the hospital a week!!!

Turkey Emergency

Chris returned from his daily morning jog yesterday, which proved to be a little bit disappointing owing to a bit of " over indulgence " over the Yuletide period.
When he returned home he gave strict instructions for any calorie busting flotsam to be removed from the cottage and out of temptation's way..and so leftover Christmas pudding, Half eaten oatcakes,biscuits,   crackers, old mince pies, a large  tub of forgotten brandy butter,a large packet of Bombay mix, peanuts and a box of unwanted dark chocolates were all emptied into a bucket and dumped in front of the field population.
The chickens literally thought it was Christmas!
Within seconds chicken lips were smeared with crumbs and brandy butter as coffee cream chocs and the remains of a Yule log were  fought over by eager beaks.
Now, I have some advice if any of you are doing the same thing with your Chrimbo leftovers....make sure that you soften your biscotti!
For the one piece of uneaten Italian confectionary that had been discarded, was snapped up by Bingley , the turkey, and swallowed in one gulp.
Now, I think Bingley's eyes were just too big for his head, for the biscotti biscuit, quite clearly had become stuck in his throat as the turkey started to choke and bob his head frantically .
Years ago,when I was a student nurse,  I once removed half an apricot from an senile old lady's gullet by employing the Heimlich manoeuvre and so I roughly sort of knew how to approach this kind of emergency and so I clambered over the fence and went to Bingley's aid.
I shouldn't have worried, as turkeys are made from stern stuff, so after a few frantic gulps and a bit of manhandling from me , the offending biscotti disappeared and Bingley grabbed a whole mince pie to wash it down with....

“Have Yourself A Merry Little.....”

 

This evening I was asked what is my favourite memory of any Christmas 

What a hard question this is to answer.

I’m feeling rather anti social tonight, and the hospice remains quiet , so I busied myself with some mindless checks of sell by dates of the unit’s drugs, and I thought about specific Christmases of note.

Having a Christmas review, I think, is very much like owning a succession of dogs. Each one has its own personality but there is a tendency of every one merging into each other.

Some stand out for the oddest reasons.

The year my father fell under the Christmas tree in his underpants with one of his more glamorous but equally pissed in laws. 

The year each one of the family had to share some sort of dramatic or comic performance, each one excelling the other.

Lying on a sofa with a partner covered in dogs one sunny and lazy Christmas morning 

Last year listening to a colleague sing silent night with a dying patient at 6 am 

Childhood memories are a collage of 1970s tv, warm prawn cocktails and peanuts in glass bowls that before had been used as ash trays .

A visit to a poor psychiatric patient in their home , which had no carpets but still being offered me a mince pie and a cup of tea

The memories feed off each other and bounce around like poleroid photos in the wind.

I am reminded of a late shift one Christmas Day ( always the most hated) when I was charge Nurse on Osborn 1 at The Princess Royal Spinal Unit in Sheffield

It was dark, perhaps late afternoon and the majority of bed fast patients had many visitors surrounding them ,like musk oxen surrounding their young and weak 

Three African nurses were on duty with me and they were pushing a very drunk and smiling patient on his bed back to the ward from the smoking room .

He was nursing a rather robust looking bottle of port

And true to form, they were singing all in low easy voices......one pushing the bed, one pulling and the other holding tight to the patient’s hand.

Several of the relatives came and stood in the corridor to listen, as I did at my office door as the procession went passed and I cannot hear this song without thinking of the pure humanity of that little moment 

What’s your special Christmas memory ?

Fellowship

 Last night was the most Christmasy I have felt, thanks primarily to Storm Bella, a living room full of scented candles and the film The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society 

It’s a lovely film and is one that strangely resonates with our own lives under lockdown.

In the film the Characters are under curfew of the German occupation of Guernsey. 

Isolated from each other and from any cultural fellowship.

Isola Pribby is a lonely spinster waiting for her Heathcliffe to turn up in her life, Amelia Maugery a widow overwhelmed with grief, Eben Ramsey a grandfather and postmaster and Dawsey Adams an isolated pig farmer. 

All are hungry for the spark, a literary society meeting gives them, but more importantly it is the friendships that evolves from that shared experience that proves the most significant for each of them.

The experiences of these film characters, will resonate with many of us in blog land ,for we too are little islands in isolation from others.

All in need of connection, 

To feel a part of something

Blogging is our own Literary society meeting

I’d love to say that I’m a sort of Dawsey Adams , but in reality I’m a bit of an Even Ramsey crossed with a Miss Pribby

Christmas 1985

Christmas week 1985 I was  shadowing a community psychiatric nursing sister with her caseload in the deprived and depressing northern town of Runcorn.
Through a succession of faceless maisonettes, we sat on grubby sofas and listened to  sad stories of loneliness, mental illness and substance abuse and I watched as my mentor tried her best to keep heads above water and bums out of the local psychiatric unit.
The last visit of the day was to a woman called Jean.
Jean lived alone in the top flat of a ten story complex. She had suffered from severe mental health problems for forty years and had recently been placed in her flat from long term psychiatric care only a few months before.
I remember her flat very well. There was no carpet in the hall and the living room but there was a tiny tinsel Christmas tree standing on top of a large black and white tv.  A homemade fabric stocking was hung on the fire surround and just two Christmas cards  were perched on the mantle.
( one of those cards having been sent by my colleague) The flat was sparse but incredibly clean and it was evident that Jean had been waiting for our visit all day.
In mismatching cups we were offered coffee with powdered milk and a single mince pie served on a paper plate and I remember sharing a sad glance with the nurse when Jean presented us both with gifts hastily wrapped in cheap Christmas paper. My gift was two placemats with photos of cats on them. The nurse received a small yellow vase, and I remember Jean beaming with delight when we both thanked her effusively for her kindness.
When we washed up our own cups, the nurse quietly checked the fridge, noting that most of the shelves were empty . There was a calender on the wall with the note " NURSE COMES TODAY" written on that day's date. Nothing else was written on it until the week of new year's eve, where the same sentence was written.
It was the very first time that I had experienced someone who was so totally isolated in a community setting and it shocked and saddened me.
I listened as the nurse talked about medication, and as  I waited patiently when she took Jean into the bedroom to administer a regular injection I noticed a carrier bag which the nurse had tucked away by the side of the arm chair shortly after we arrived. In it was a package of cold meat, and what looked like chocolates and a cake.
Before we left, we let Jean monopolize her only conversation of the week and as she retrieved our coats, I watched and grew a few years older as the nurse silently slipped a ten pound note behind one of the cards on the mantle.

pies

I am writing this blog very late on Sunday night. I have caught up with the field jobs after a very long day at work, walked the dogs and have made a large savory flan and apple pie for Richard to hopefully enjoy later in the week.
Tomorrow I have absolutely tons of jobs to do. There are more "Richard meals" to prepare for the freezer, the over long nettles need strimming on the allotment before they get too unruly and all the coops will need cleaning before we go away. If Blanche has been sin binned enough, then the large cage needs to be cleaned and set up in the shed ready for the ducklings to be set up. They are only three weeks old and still need the warmth of a lamp until their feathers start to grow.
All the water butts require filling and every enclosure's bird feed needs bagging up and labelling to make Richard's job easier. Laundry and house jobs can be fitted in around a doctor's visit and shopping.
I have drunk too much diet coke, so am writing this watching an ok film The Interpreter (2005) on tv. I need a good sleep

Love Token Pies

Ps.......first blog of today was movie centered

The second is a brief "emotionally based" one.

Chris returns home from Canada today

He's been away since the weekend

Now it may surprise you when I say that I am not a heart warming emotional sort of old queen in practice 

But I am looking forward in having him home.

I am not the sort to wave a white handkerchief from the garden gate

I am not the sort to gush emotional platitudes over the phone either

But I am the sort to lovingly bake you two types of pie

For when you return home from distant shores.

2012- a few thoughts

I have just read (and enjoyed) Cro's Review of 2012
My own review of the year, is perhaps somewhat different.
National pride at "The jolly good show" that was the Olympics gave the country an intoxicating sense of community which was as surprising as it was welcomed.
And on a purely local level the Village Flower Show and Jubilee  Carnival celebrations had the same effect on the 300 souls that live here in Trelawnyd.
Yin and Yang
Large and small scale.
We are all the same.

On a personal level, 2012 was a time that my family "regrouped" following the death of my brother.
It was a time of introspection, and it was a time when wounds were licked.
From that point of view, it was a very tough year.

Having a sense of humour has helped. Humour always does. And of course I have been blessed with a ready made set of animal and village characters who constantly prick the giggle muscles with antics that can only be viewed by someone who observes things on a micro scale.
This year I have taken much time looking "in" at them all.
They are as comforting as a warm apple pie is on a cold day.

January saw the arrival of the valiant and blind  Rooster Cogburn, he arrived at the same time as the pigs left, and on reflection I now realize that the rearing of three amazingly robust animals like him, number 12 and number 21, taught me a great deal about doing the right thing where animals are concerned.

Village life ebbed and flowed too.
Chris had some amazing  and well deserved successes at work and I made a speech to the Woman's institute!
Friends in the village have battled illness. The likes of Mrs Jones with her sing-song voice have sadly died, and the bad weather has taken it's toll on the landscape .
Trelawnyd, like so many places in Britain needs some sunny times.
We need a summer.
When I looked back at 2012 here in GOING GENTLY one blog entry  from May 3rd caught my eye more than any other.
It is one that had over 130 responses, and it is one that for me, underlines the year more than anything else.
Forgive me for re posting it.

"Today has been Chris' birthday
We planned to go out for lunch and hoped to follow that with a visit to Bodnant Gardens to see the spring azaleas .
Not much to ask for your 43rd birthday
Simple pleasures.
Well, we did go out for lunch and the bluebells were out on the lovely Chapel walk at the gardens, and I played a game that I was enjoying the day and Chris kindly played the game that he didn't notice that really I wasn't.
It was good that we went out, the weather has been nice today

Mabel's condition deteriorated overnight. Her paws became oedematous and even though her breathing improved somewhat, it was obvious that she was suffering from a certain degree of heart failure.
The kind 14 year old vet scanned her again this morning and isolated masses on her liver and spleen, which indicated to him (with all of her other symptoms) that she was indeed suffering from a probable and widespread lymphoma. A lymphoma which had certainly affected her spinal cord
The prognosis, given her physical condition was poor.

Like I said he was very sweet.
He came out with all those tried and tested kind words that I use at work every week,
and he didn't look too embarrassed when my face crumpled like newspaper as I said my goodbyes.
She died peacefully with her big fat stupid head in my hands...
and before I left, I kissed her gently on the nose as I have done most days since she arrived in Wales

Minutes later, I was driving an empty car home as if nothing had happened.
But of course , it had

I have posted before about a psychologist that I worked with, who always used to say
"you feel what you feel", when faced with someone that questioned the validity of an emotion that they were experiencing
Well I feel guilty and slightly ashamed
That's how I feel today."

Deluge

The weather has been truly horrendous today. Heavy driving drain has lashed the village for hours and the field has become a quagmire. You cannot judge the heaviness of the rain in the above photo, but suffice to say that usually you can see most of the 83 animals inhabiting the field from this angle and in the photo not even the ducks can be seen!
Every animal had found a small dry corner in which to shelter.
I was hoping to start digging pig manure into the allotment beds today, but of course that was impossible so I have made a chorizo pasta sauce for tea, an apple pie and have properly cleaned the cottage from top to bottom.
However the dogs still needed to be walked twice today and eggs still needed to be delivered, so I have been soaked at least half a dozen times before 3pm...my chest is still wheezy and tight following my cold two weeks ago and I have noticed that this bronchitis has been getting worse over that last year or so.....I have an awful worry that I may be actually allergic to feathers- which is a bit of a bummer for someone with 76 birds!,,,,or is it just a case of getting older?
Speaking of birds (when DON'T I?---I am such a sad poultry geek! ) One of the turkey poults, the smallest bronze, is looking a little "droopy" today. Turkey chicks can succumb to illness out of the blue, so I have treated all of the chicks with some spare antibiotic and will ask the vet's advice tomorrow when I call up to collect a stitch cutter....(Albert's sutures need removing!)

This is my phone.....as you can see I am not BIG into flashy gadgets (I take as good care of my phone as I take pride in my appearance!) The back is kept in place by some brown tape and you can make out William's teeth marks all over the keyboard.....I was in the post office this morning and was texting a good luck message to Nu for a job interview, when I caught sight of a farmer eyeing up the wreck of the phone with a mild expression of surprise.....I look like such a dork sometimes!!
tee hee

Trelawnyd Harvest Lunch

Now I have been requested to "Big Up" the St Michael's Harvest Lunch which takes place on the 13th of October .The following has been taken from this month's Parish Magazine

"...a harvest lunch will take place in the Memorial Hall from 12 noon to 1.30. There will be a good hot pot main course followed by fruit pie and custard, and we hope that this will be patronised by parishioners and friends. The cost is a reasonable £5. There will also be a raffle and stall. The rector apologises in advance that he will not be able to be present on this occasion"

It kind of tickles me that I have been asked to advertise the event, as I have a feeling that some people in the village think that EVERYONE reads this blog......but I am more than happy to "big up" any village event here.....perhaps I should develop a whole new blog site that the Church/Hall Committee/etc could access?...now that may a good idea!


Anyhow a few jobs on the field need completing today, I am off to visit my brother who has been admitted to St Kentigan's Hospice for a week or so ( I will take in William who always loves the attention). I will also call in to someone I know who may be able to take in a couple of the abandoned geese......


Off to Theatre Clwyd later for a long awaited Audrey Tatou fix

Dead Air

Italians are not the only people who like to sing
Yesterday afternoon, as we updated our care plans and filled out the necessary intentional rounding sheets, a couple of nurses I work with started to sing in Welsh.
I didn't know the words to some of their songs but managed to gently join in with the Welsh hymn Calon Lân as a patient and her visitors came to the hospice corridor in order to listen.
A small human  moment but a tiny powerful one in this mad big world.

This morning I have given my spare bedroom a spring clean.
It now no longer smells of academia and lofty thinking
Of musty papers, dust and dead air.
The windows were opened wide to the cold spring air fresh from Gop Hill and although I aim to repaint and recarpet  the room soon, I washed the paintwork down and shampooed the rub into sweet freshness.
A cheerful new duvet and bedding on special offer at Sainsbury's rebooted the old Victorian bed and I could tell that the ever present Winnie was joyfully thinking " oh goody we are having visitors!" after she watched me plump up the pillows with hopeful brown eyes.
She's ever the optimist

I've made a shepherd's pie and lit the fire
Destry Rides Again is on TCM this afternoon
Sunday chillin

Personal Grooming and other pre wedding stuff

Now, This may not surprise any of you, when I say that I am not known for my fastidious personal grooming habits. Now, let's get something clear here......I bathe daily and never wear dirty undies two days in a row, so I don't smell like a two week old half eaten pork pie!, but I have to concede that the choice of Chris' array of facial moisturisers do leave me somewhat perplexed after I've given my chops a quick rub down with a soapy flannel.
Today, I going to make an effort.
I have my face pack organised. My hair conditioner ready ( conditioner! What the f*~k is conditioner?) and intend to give my nether regions a good scrub with something abrasive a bit later!
Gawd all this intensive grooming lark!
Its a bleeding palaver! But I am seriously convinced that I shall look neat and presentable before the sun sets tomorrow night.
I understand there are some sceptics out there... ( next door neighbour John did give me a short lecture about not kneeling down in my wedding pants this morning).....put for once in my life I shall look the part

Chris has left me with the dogs and Albert this morning with strict instructions not to eat anything fluid in 24 hours. It may have been easier and cleaner for someone to pass a nasogastric tube on me....

YP's wedding card....the wag!

Today we've been showered with gifts and cards and best wishes, and its been ever so slightly
overwhelming and rather humbling. Thank you bloggers, friends , villagers and family alike......
I am now off for a relaxing soak in the tub!.....but before I go..I just need to thank Sarah for her telegram....she has won the telegram competition

The Austin of England

Thinking of my first car ( see today's other blog) today and the Austin 13oo, was a real trouper! built like a tank, I spent many years dashing around with 4 fellow cb friends in the back seat like something from Wacky Races! I even remember the registration
GDM 744K
My handle was Pockets ( named after Red Button' character in the film Hatari).... This made me think of the other members of the group and what happened to them! Green Giant (now living in Birmingham and a company director), Cherry Blossom ( a social worker living in a converted hotel in Ilfracombe); Rusty Nut ( married in Rhyl I think) Bogey Man (died in plane crash) Half Pint (Nia in OZ!!),Black Sheep and Sweety pie ( who knows, who cares?) yeap its all a long time ago!

The Seagull

I bought a cheap ticket for the theatre tonight but I feel too jaded after nights to go.
I'm not feeling well today.

A few years ago, I fell for a simple glass study of a seagull which I noticed in a small gallery in Broadstairs.
My husband bought it and for months it sat in the window of the kitchen gathering dust and in risk of being smashed by Albert's gammy leg.
When we split I asked to keep it and today I had an idea to keep it safe.
I framed it.
And it looks mighty fine
It now is a constant reminder of the British seaside tradition
Of beach huts and sun loungers.
Steep cobbled streets and Morelli's ice cream
Of fish pie, micro pubs, people watching and of hot sand......overly hot sand beneath my feet.

Sad Memories and Saturday pottering

I was reading a friend's blog today with a tinge of sadness, as they associate their former home city (Sheffield) with a host of rather sad and negative memories of relationships gone sour.
I am incredibly lucky as I associate only good memories with the former steel city, I lived there between 1989 and 2005, and during that time experienced some bad times (relationship break ups/a lost friendship/lack of money/some minor health problems) but the overwhelming relationship I had with Sheffield has been positive.
I had 16 years in a job I enjoyed and was good at with people that I genenerally respected and that respected me, I bought two houses and profited from them. I "came out" in Sheffield , felt supported in that decision and had my first serious relationships. I met many friends in and around the city and still enjoy those friendships to this day. I was treated to theatre and cinema in excess to anything I could have afforded myself (thanks to Jonney and the Sheffield Star) and through the arthouse cinema's (The anvil and Showrooms) developed my love and passion for films.
I reconciled my shakey relationship with my father at my tiny house in Walkley and developed my own urban family bonds with Christmas meals in Woodseats.I have danced with Mike and Bev on the roof of Weston Park hospital,had my first date with Chris in All Bar One and met friends too numerous to mention outside Cole Brothers. Joan,Betty, Finlay and Maddie came to us in Sheffield, Nuala and I were surrogate partners around Broomhill and Jane and I were partners in and around Crooks!
Yes I am lucky,Sheffield holds only good memories for me.!

Today we have pottered. The farmer has cleared most of the rubbish from my field and in the process has made me another vegetable patch I was not expecting. Chris has enjoyed planting miniture violas, and watching the chickens and tonight is fish pie with a dvd.
working nights tomorrow