Ghosts

 

I didn’t tell Nu until our third glass of white that our trip to see Romeo and Juliet was a sort of red letter day for me. 

It was my first physical visit there for over three years and the Opera House in all its shimmering red and gold upholstery and sky blue ceiling had been a very special place that my husband and I shared over the years. 

She listened with watery eyes of concern and we chinked glasses and laughed slightly sadly together

Acknowledging the past but not dwelling on it.

It remains a special place 

And always will be.

The Opera House Conservatory 

It’s Friday morning and already I’m on the 9.10 Glasgow train home 

After hours of talk yesterday, it’s nice to be reflective and quiet.

London feels back to normal now post covid. 

The tube was packed as was the very trendy No Mad Hotel bar on Bow Street which we sneaked into  for post ballet cocktails .

I’m back in London to see Nu in nine days time

We are off to see Cabaret

Hey ho

Making The Most

I’m looking through my Filofax ( I know I’m a dinosaur) at the next ten days and apart from one long shift on Saturday , my days off and annual leave is filled with things to do.

I think that over the last two years I have pushed myself to be busy. And what I mean by that , is that I wanted to be productively busy….enjoyable busy……appropriately busy.

The world and his wife doesn’t come to you, when you’re on the wrong side of fifty, single and not blessed with Russell Crowe ( circa 2001) good looks.

You simply have to make the effort.

Today I’m off to London, (a flying visit to touch base with Nu ) as well as a real post covid treat- tickets to The Royal Ballet and I’m mindful that. I’m back in London early March to see Cabaret also with Nu ( her Christmas gift to me). Im planning to catch up with my friend Alex in the big smoke in April too, and no doubt we will get some cheap theatre tickets for something stimulating 

The capital has been well and truly rubber stamped as it were.

Next week I’m on holiday. Sunday I’ve got two cinema trips booked Flee ( an animated gay themed film from Afghanistan) and The Duke ( the comedy heist movie with Jim Broadbent ) Monday it’s pottery with my sisters and lunch out with a friend. Tuesday it’s choir and the start of a five week film course on zoom.

Wednesday the dogs and I are off to Sheffield for four days and all of us are stating in a dog friendly Airbnb, a cottage in Loxley which overlooks Hillsborough, my old home town.

I’m a little tired of visiting Sheffield in a rushed manner. Dog sitters and time off work often means that I have to grab just an overnight visit, necessitating a triage of who to catch up with first. 

This time as well as meeting up with stalwarts Mike, Jane and Jonney H , I’ve arranged dinner out and in  with my old friend Sarah, and with Meggie and Mick who I haven’t seen together since their wedding back in the day when I had a waist and brown hair.

I’ve arrange walks with Jane and Bev and Maisie ( who was a baby when I left Sheffield ) and coffee and cake with Kathryn and Vince and everything is slotted in without rush and without drama. 

For a fee my host will dog sit the girls if needed 

Meggie and Mick’s wedding

I say all this, not to boast… look at me what a good friend I am! Perhaps I'm actually underlining what a poor friend I’ve been. Friendships are like tomato plants, they need regular feeding, and with relationships and work and the pace of life in general it’s easy to let things slide, concentrating on the few rather than the all. 

It’s also easy not to be a good friend to yourself.

I think we all can act the martyr at times, the slouch, the couldn’t be bothered whilst sometimes the best thing to do is to hike up those bra straps and get on with doing

I’m trying to live that mantra, but it can be hard 

Very hard

Gorgeous Dave messaged me the other night.

“Found dirt cheap tickets to Rome in June , fancy coming for a weekend?” it went

My reply was within minutes 

“ let’s go for it!”

The train is just motoring through the midlands,

I get into London at 1pm. 

A walk through Bloomsbury and I’ll be at Dishoom well before 2.

  

The Log Burner

The log burner is going full blast again.

Mary and her trusty rubber chicken lie warming themselves until they steam

The radiators are working again and the thermal store is full of boiling water 

The cottage has been properly warmed back into life again.

Tomorrow I’m off to London. 

Last year I bought Nu and I tickets for the Royal Ballet 

Romeo and Juliet at the Royal Opera House 

How lovely is that? 

I’m meeting her at Dishoom Covent Garden 

I’ve missed her so recently

“ Old Man”

 I’ve ventured down to Y Shed for one of their strong Americanos

The ones that blow yer tits off and and give you a zing

And I’ve taken the obligatory snapshot of my coffee cup to prove the fact.

I will have another one too, so I will be bordering of ADHD by the time I get home.

I’ve just had a row with two middle aged women joggers ( Quelle Surprise) but this time I was provoked ( again) 

They ran up behind me like two ninjas and surprised Dorothy who suddenly found herself in front of them before she and I realised and called her to heel. 

I called out “ I’m sorry” As Dorothy stopped and raised her head to say hello and one of the joggers, exasperated with the interruption yelled “ Oh God  GET OUT OF MY WAY “ as she waved her arms wildly

“ She has every right to be here as you do” I called out, irked that my original apology hadn’t registered 

And what only could be called a fishwives’ Bitch off ensued .

“Fucking dog walkers lording the path” 

“ What if a child ran out in front of you?”

“ Dangerous Dogs should be on a lead”

“ She only has a brain the size of a soddin peanut!”

“I could have broken my ankle falling over her “

“ Nazi Jogger”

“ You Should have called out you were coming past, what am I ? Fucking psychic ?”

I think you get the gist

The other Lycra covered jogger then decided to Wade in and with her hands on her hips yelled a somewhat   Surprising and simple “ insult” of

“OLD MAN ! “ which smarted somewhat

They jogged on

Another couple who had been walking behind me called out with a supportive “ Weren't they rude ? “ 

but of course they had a dog too, so they would wouldn’t they? 

“It happens to me regularly” I admitted and had to laugh at myself 

I wonder why….

At last

 Islwyn has been casting his little bits of magic again.

Nothing huge , but my wheelie bin now has an elasticated latch which stops it flapping open in the wind of the three named storms which has hit home recently.

He’s the sort to do jobs like these. 

No fanfare no lectures 

Just a little kindness.

Recently I was witness to another quiet bit of kindness at choir.

One chorister who has recently suffered a bereavement was quietly leaving at the end of practice and she stopped to say hell to the gaggle of sopranos who immediately surrounded and group hugged her within an inch of her life

People are so naturally kind I always like to think .

My sisters both made me a cooked dinner last night too, which was a treat. 

I’m still somewhat rough with another kidney infection and they think I need looking after .

Today the heating engineer rang and asked if he could come and do the chimney lining today instead of Friday . 

I couldn’t say no, but could have done without the subsequent mess 

He had an apprentice who forgot he was wearing soot and charcoal covered working boots all around the living room  

And I caught him red faced, frantically trying to get rid of the evidence with some kitchen paper.

I told him not to worry , but it’s been a bugger to get rid of , even with my trusty carpet cleaner.  

I can relight the fire tomorrow but I must be honest , I did light a very small one tonight just to please myself 

At last

Walking Dead ..the final series

Daryl and Connie

 I’m on the last season of The Walking Dead 

And I’m still as loyal as ever.

So much so I will be dressing up as Hershal at the next comic con with my nephew ! ( God help me )

So much happened in this episode 

Gracie and Judith was saved by gay hero Aaron from the flooded Walker filled basement 

Maggie went rogue

Alden died

Negan walked away and in the best reunion ever Since Daryl and Carol …. Daryl hugged Connie 

All this means nothing to most of you, but after investing ten years of my life to one tv programme

I’m loving it 

Daryl and Carol 

Creak Of A Dress

I had a dream last night.

A dream that made me wonder if it was a dream at all.

I was reading in the living room and I heard my grandmother singing from the kitchen.

She wasn’t  singing per se.

It was a la-la -la, some ladies of a certain age do when their hands are busy 

But her voice was sweet and the clatter of cutlery on the drainage board ( I haven’t got one) was reassuring .

lids rattled and I imagined she was retrieving a cake from the old cake tin with the green lid and I heard side plates being put out on the table, and the kettle steamed on the gas ring even though I have only an electric hob.

The brown teapot filled with boiling water and I could smell washing powder, cold cream then cake sponge which I knew was made moist by raspberry jam.

The ironing board clinked open 

More la la singing 

And the creak of a dress a shade too small for a waist.

In the dream, I put down the book and walked to the kitchen door 

And of course my kitchen was empty, and neat and very cold

And I woke up feeling rather flat…..

Debby’s words from yesterday caught in my head this morning

“We are surrounded by the ghosts of loved ones gone on, aren't we?”

Rubber Chicken 2 - The Revenge

 I never thought I’d ever buy another rubber chicken after Winifred’s object of affection was framed after her graceful death. 

But today, when I was buying dog food from Aldi ( the only supermarket that doesn’t have a shortage ) 

I bought Mary her own rubber chicken which squeaks like teenage girl when squeezed 

All day she has been guarding it, playing with it, squeezing it, squeaking it  and……. watching it 

I’m rebirthing a monster 

Serve You Right

 kidney’s playing up today.

If my mother was alive she would have said 

“Serve You right for showing off about your pension yesterday”

My mother could be a real cow when the mood took her.

I am reminded of her when anon ( et al) start to micro pick at blog entries and blog comments 

Tiresome all.

Sad Mothers…..and sad people in general , can be real cows

Anyhow

The weather today feels worse than it did when Eunice arrived.

It’s blustery and very wet and cold too.

I walked the dogs earlier and was caught short and had to have a pee behind a tree which caused a few logistical problems .

I’ve put my thickest jumper on today and don’t feel like eating.

I will nap later, covered in dogs.

Speaking of eating, I will leave you all with this charming video.

Tik tok , does post a few amid the crass

It’s rather hypnotic and moving

I’m off to make olive, spinach and bread bean soup

Serendipity Again

 

Eunice came and went and left very little mark on Trelawnyd yesterday.

I wasn’t woken by the wind but by worrying that overnight 8 thousand pounds had been deposited into my current account without my knowledge and not long after I had tried to sleep for an hour or so after getting home, I got up and rang the nhs pensions department in order to clarify why they had sent me the money .

The young man who eventually answered my call, laughed in genuine good humour.

My former nhs employer had processed my pension incorrectly and I was being recompensed for the mistake

Again when it has come to money,

Serendipity has chosen some brilliant timing in my life of late and she’s done her stuff just when I needed her too.

This is the third time in so many years that good fortune has smiled on me when I’ve needed money the most. 

Not having to scrimp and save for things like I’ve had to do with the chimney repairs is wonderfully satisfying. 

I’ve paid off my overdraft, my credit card bill and have deposited the rest into my savings account while I do some thinking…..

How lucky am I ?

Hey ho

Last night the goats walked back through the car park again but this time they were returning to the Orme 

The hysteria of Eunice is finally over

Bra Straps

 It’s 6.40am and I’m writing up my patients’ notes as the wind picks up over West Shore here in Llandudno.

A sizeable group of the  Orme’s goats, presumably  sensing the approaching storm crossed our car park in the wee small hours and entered the gardens of the housing complex opposite 

I watched them on the security cameras as they tiptoed past Bluebell.

Eunice will hit Trelawnyd hard around 11 am, where wind gusts have been forecasted to be 20 mph stronger than they will be just 2 miles north on the coastal plain.

There seems a lot of worry about this storm compared to the ones we’ve had in the past

I may sleep downstairs when I get home 

I hope my Churchyard laburnum survives…and my roof 

Hold on to your bra straps it’s going to be a bumpy day

Eunice

 Eunice is approaching and a calm morning is becoming a blustery afternoon.

My laburnum sapling in the churchyard remains steadfast against the stormy weather but the dead ash trees on the field borders have taken a bashing last night.

Today another weather warning has been made.

The coast road to work will be an interesting drive later.

It’s been a nothing sort of day, I met my sister in law for  lunch and have just planted out some miniature cyclamen on the patio shelving. 

That’s all I’ve done.

I once worked with a mad cap Irish nurse called Eunice 

She once remarked to a patient who had a gunshot wound scar in his chest that she thought he had a extra nipple

Dudley

 Storm Dudley has found shore

Trendy Carol bustled up the lane earlier in a lovely brown woollen coat 

And we waved as the blustery wind shook the both of us like twigs

The dogs and Albert have squeezed onto the trendy blue sofa like sardines 

And I’ve turned off the tv and read Bob Mortimer’s autobiography as the wind screamed around the cottage walls .

I miss my fire and am happy it returns next week 

I met my old friend Cheryl today , a psychotherapist as well as a friend 

She centred me 

…..naturally ….

The roar of the wind is worrying, but it will pass 

Oh God not the Beetroot Falafel

It was well after eleven last night when I realised I had not eaten since  lunchtime , a lunch which had been a very tasty but very small beef stew, served by the very cute chef himself 

I raided the cupboards and found a packet of beetroot and chilli falafel mix which was a mistake and moments after I had mixed the bright purple chickpea glup into balls and had started to deep fry them in a Smokey kitchen.

I can’t remember the last time I threw up in the middle of the night.

It was probably years ago in Sheffield after an overly energetic night out at The Ledmill.

But at 4 am this morning , and with an audience to two dogs watching carefully from the doorway, I hurled my purple guts up while hugging the pan moaning loudly  “ Oh God Why” 

Dorothy especially was fascinated by the contents of my stomach and pushed her head next to mine in order to muse with some interest at the lumps and bumps hurling from my mouth. 

I can still taste beetroot this morning.

I’ve walked the dogs , burped my way through an  “interview” by the Daily Post regarding the Church closure and sorted out my new chimney liner ( at last) 

The work will be done next week…..yayyyy

I’m off shortly to Chester to meet an old friend for an early lunch 

I won’t be eating falafels

Tebe Poem (Dmitry Bortniansky)

We sang this Russian hymn tonight at choir 

A fitting and rather lovely piece which heralded my proper return to choir.

Masks off

A few hugs by friends not seen for ages,

Jamie ( with his 1940s RAF moustache) on great form 

And acoustics to die for

I loved it so very much 

Love With No Place To Go

I met a friend for lunch.

They are grieving and looked hollow, and lost.

I listened and gave the grief feelings validation. 

But it was hard to see the sadness 

Which was physical and present. 

And the Jamie Anderson quote came to mind

“ Grief is a love with no place to go”

Pottery

I met my sisters Ann and Janet tonight and we returned to pottery , for the first time together since lockdown . I completed my cave man spoons then made this landscape piece which will be painted like the welsh hills that surround Trelawnyd. 

It may double as a letter rack ….

I love this photo 

 

A Mouse In The Reading Chair

 It was fortunate that my friend cancelled our walk today due to the crappy weather. 

I’ve spent the day, rearranging furniture 

Gay men love rearranging furniture .

Around 3 am Mary found a mouse in the reading chair.

The resulting hysteria woke the entire household and even Albert scraped off cushions and pushed his head down crevices in order to locate the dumb fuck of a rodent .

The chair had a nest amongst the springs.

It’s now on the patio awaiting the tip.

Hence the need for the rearranging of the furniture 

And with that , a clean, a titivate and a pleasing afternoon.

If any of you love Pedro Almodòvar you will know that he incorporates into his films some lovely interior sets. The apartments and homes of his characters have vibrancy and a particular character of their own and they almost become another cast member with a personality, temperament and identify all of their own. 

I adored the apartment feel of Penelope Cruz’s character in Parallel Mothers 

But now I kind of like the eclectic nature of my cottage interior

Comedy Club

 Gorgeous Dave picked me up early evening and we went to the comedy club at Theatre Clwyd , which is an event which is growing in popularity. 

Four comedians ( two ok, one excellent one terrible) faced a rather subdued audience but it was a good evening all told as Dave and I get on, and fill the gaps with flowing and easy conversations.

Dave is half my age, but we are firm and good friends and I like the fact that our friendship isn’t got an age boundary on it.

It’s been a lovely day today. 

I’ve enjoyed it.

Tomorrow, I’m meeting my sister in law for lunch and later I’m walking with another friend down the beach …later on  my sister Janet and I are off to pottery class…..

Parallel Mothers

 A Pedro Almodòvar film is a wonderful panacea against a drab and miserable Sunday morning for it is crammed to the gunnels with the vibrancy and colour of Spain at its best and Parallel Mothers ( Madres Paralelas) is such a film, which is not only beautiful to look at , but is full of warmth and love and hope and beautiful people being very adult and grown up. 

The film centres about two single mothers who give birth on the same day. Penélope Cruz is Janis, a successful photographer who is looking forward to motherhood and Melina Smit is Ana an isolated teenager who is not. 

A friendship ensues and their lives become linked through fate, a tragedy, complicated relationships and an old war crime with both women exploring the blurring of boundaries of mothers and motherhood. 

It’s a wonderfully old fashioned pot boiler with lots of satisfying plot twists and Almodòvar has crafted a complicated but intensely warm homage to families of blood and the families we blend out of people we love. 

Cruz is luminous in the main role and is ably supported by a cast made mostly ,( with one exception) from women. Smit is impressive as the strong teenage Ana who has to grow up very quickly and Almodòvar stalwart Rossy de Palmer makes a welcome return in the small role of Janis’ best friend.

De Palmer

The denouement is incredibly moving with the female cast revisiting the site of a civil War crime , a background story which underlines the message that babies carry the genes and ghosts of the past.

He leaves the audience with a quote from journalist Eduardo Galeano

“ No matter how hard you try to silence it, human history refuses to shut up” 

I adored this film 

I had something to eat in Chester afterwards, then came home walked the dogs and pottered….a bit later  Gorgeous Dave will pick me up. We are going  to Comedy Night at Theatre Clwyd ( an odd night for a comedy show I always think) 

It’s bloody non stop lol