A First!

Now I like a new experience just like the next man, but one would have thought that a Primary School Sports Day may not be high on the list of a middle aged, somewhat cosmopolitan country homosexual with time on his hands! 

strange as it would seem I rather enjoyed myself

For yesterday the affable despot Jason invited me to an alien land full of egg and spoon races, javelin throwing seven year olds and balance-the-bean-bag -on-the-head multitasking! 

Yes it was Liv and Eve's school Sports Day at the village school.

It's rather sweet to be included in such an experience and I must say within minutes I was transported to those old fashioned primary school sunny afternoons of the 1960s where Fat boy Gray came almost last in most races , just beating a hyperventilating lad called Allen who wore a surgical boot

Today, unlike our sports day, the onus is on taking part and obtaining a prized " sticker" rather than just winning a cup or shield although it was nice to see young Liv fist pumping the air when she slaughtered the opposition in everything she took part in......

Today's School Sports are also attended by parents and grandparents who were marshaled with much skill by the wisecracking  head teacher with a megaphone. No photos can be taken which was a shame as it proved to be a rather naive , innocently sweet afternoon which was capped off nicely by a collective " marathon " where the entire school of all ages and both sexes galloped like loons around the racetrack in organised chaos.

I came away smiling and ever slightly melancholy for never having experienced the very individual joy of attending your child's sports day!

I will leave you with some more novelty veg entries

Keep em coming! And please send them as adownloadable attachment

I am having problems with some sent by email

Thank you all for your time and efforts

jgsheffield@hotmail.com

I Shouldn't Be Let Out!

I am pretty good at not snacking between meals.

But occasionally I just need to eat something savoury, just to placate the pangs of hunger when I am out and about.

Yesterday I got my salt fix from a packet of tesco snack a jacks, which for those that don't know,sort of resemble vinegar flavoured  sanitary pads or cavity wound dressings in so much as they are strange    Polystyrene like snacks that fill you but do little else! 

I ate several packs when I was waiting in the queue at the post office  

Not a problem I hear you say

Well I would generally agree, but as I stood third in line, I caught myself in a magnificent sneeze and peppered the  heads of two women in front of me with what could only be described as a food/ sputum confetti. 

Sixth Sense

I didn't take to him immediately.
I had been talking to his partner at the door when he suddenly appeared behind her.
He had one of those hormone filled expressions on his face
It shrieked, ( well bellowed) for me to keep my distance.
I sensed a controlling and overbearing man.
He talked over the woman and didn't smile once when I rattled on

The afternoon had been filled by smalltalk and the selling of raffle tickets
Scottish Margaret is going to celebrate her golden wedding anniversary very soon. Alan Walker bought 20 quids worth without batting an eye and I caught up with Pippa's new herbaceous border as she scoured her purse for change.
Small talk and chat.
That's what village life is about.
That sixth sense that tells you something is off is a powerful feeling. Within a second I felt I had read the relationship that I had no real knowledge of and I walked away from the house uneasy and unsettled.
Behind closed doors eh?

A Call To Arms ( and some good news to finish)

The ever smiling Terry and Anne have just put up the signs for the Show and with only four weeks to go before we start again for 45 th Year it's all hands on deck.

The Show is open to all; and we have scrapped rules such as only one entry per person per class, to maximise show numbers given competition apathy! 

The show schedule can be seen here

http://trelawnyd flowershow.blogspot.co.uk

And readers of Going Gently may enter any class if they wish! 

Of course we are still collcting more of your novelty vegetable photos ( Rachel's My Little Pony is the latest example ! - see below) but I have to say that I have also had entries from bloggers for the general snapshot section  " Snapshot of a pet" ( class 37) and " Snapshot of seaside" ( Class 38) 

All photographs will be returned! 

I must add here that in the past we have had several entries to the craft section! So if you are arty in any way please feel free to put something forward! 

My little pony called ginger! 

I shall leave you with some sweet news as when I was away in sunny Spain, I recieved an email from a guy called Phil who is a bigwig in the village Male Voice Choir. 

He and several choir members went to see Auntie Glad recently and she was on much better form than she was when I visited with Amy's beautiful blanket ( which I almost conscripted into class 66 btw!)

Phil sent me this photo of Gladys and " her boys" 

Getting Back To Normal

She's only just speaking

I'm feeling more myself today. A busy two hour house clean at 6 am this morning followed by a snooze, food  Preparation, flower collection and a weigh in (surprisingly, I've not put on any weight since last fat club ! ) and I've been able to pull myself up by the bra straps and now can face the world again without sunny Sitges, great waiter service and tropical sun!
The home family is almost back up to strength, I collect the Welsh terriers this afternoon whereas Winnie and George were picked up last night from the  Greta and my sister respectively.
Winnie had been spoilt rotten and was wearing a new glitter collar when I arrived and has been suitably "cool" with me ever since she got home which is typical of bulldogs.
George on the other hand was waiting at the door for us to take him home even though my sister has pampered him like a mini celeb...... He's a real home bird!
Albert has been incredibly clingy after his week alone in the cottage, and his constant head rubbing and uncharacteristic purring has felt somewhat over-the-top given that our usual welcome has always been an occasional arse rub into the face when he is in the mood!

I am Back in The UK

And I am NOT happy! 

Hola

I wanted to write a few words, just a few today..
I'm sad that we are returning home tomorrow.
Yesterday, in between reading just four pages of my novel.....
I spent an entertaining three quarters of an hour watching a rather large lady in a chintz bathing costume eat an entire kilo of grapes.
She spat the pips out like a real pro

Fuck 'em

Fuck brexit, and terrorism.
Sod  natural and man made disasters -well just for a while.....
Bollocks to May's stupidity and Corbin's lack of statesmanship
And Arseholes to bad weather, internet trolls and Trump's dickhead Presidency

I had whisky cake last night at my sister's birthday supper.
We laughed and gossiped and drank beer.
We remembered old times and talked about new ones
And we forgot the ills of the world 

Beach

The over painted cherubs outside our balcony

Beach life , just like real life has its etiquettes and rituals , trials and tribulations.
I am a watcher of people on the beach.
They are far more interesting than a cheap novel.
The Prof and I are ensconced under our usual canopy. To our right are another gay couple. One older and suffering ill health, the other younger and fitter. I noticed that the younger man removed the trainers and socks of the elder when they arrived today.
In front of us is a man with his mother.
They rarely speak. She reads. He eyes up the passing talent.
Yesterday five statuesque german girls with exactly the same figures but different faces sat nearby preening themselves all day. I was exhausted watching them. They have not turned up today, as yet.
To our right is an arty looking French family of five sat quietly brooding under their canopy.
Not one has smiled all day.
They had melon for lunch.
The beach hawkers filled the gaps by flashing their beach throws at anyone that vaguely looked interested, like Peacocks fluttering their tails at sitting peahens.They are mostly poor North Africans who look over dressed in the sun.
The hours pass, and we all, I am sure,  feel more and more relaxed as the magnificent Sitges Church chimes away the hours throughout the day.

Postcard

Sitges has lost none of it's charm.
The little town by the sea is still dominated by the Church which overlooks the beach like a protective mother duck over her ducklings
I'm feeling rested this morning if not a little constipated so am off for a power walk and a sit on the loo with a book
The Prof has a video conference to sort but the wifi is variable
The holiday progresses!

Sitges, Spain

3am

The Brothers

The three bachelors, through plain cheek and chutzpah have won over the neighbours and have proved to be more popular than any of the birds that have frequented the Ukrainian Village over the years. The reason for this is their blind bravery, for the three brothers spend much of their day on the periphery of the lane at the mercy of passing traffic, dogs on leads and young boys looking for mischief.
They now  have a habit of crowing in unison as soon as a new face, car or animal appears, and puff out their chests like short men at a gym when someone ventures a friendly hello.

Ive caught most of the neighbours feeding them tidbits in the driveways of their houses!
They now move together...... almost as if they were one animal

More Veg

Rachel's slightly controversial novelty veg photo entry

Please keep em coming

jgsheffield@hotmail.com 

Shit In A Pot

One of many broods of indian runners in the kitchen 

Yesterday evening I received a phonecall from a woman who needed some advice about ducklings. Her son had brought home four and she was in a pickle of what to feed them and how to keep them warm.
I gave her the info she needed ( scrambled egg is a great stopgap for hungry ducklings) and wished her well.
Ducklings are notoriously dirty little creatures , I warned her, especially if they are kept in the house. They have a somewhat annoying skill of flinging shit with their feet and it is easy to catch salmonella from them, if you don't wash your hands properly.
Nine years ago , after a particularly nasty bout of diarrhoea, I had to take a stool specimen into the labs at work to see if I had caught a nasty bug from my own ducklings who were being nursed in the dog crate in the kitchen. The sample was " placed" in a small plastic specimen jar and was neatly labelled with my name, nhs number and the words faecal specimen on the side. I placed it on the dashboard of the old berlingo and went out to complete a few jobs.before setting off for the hospital.

Now, I had forgotten about the container until I had stopped to let Olwenna Banks Hughes and Gwyneth Jones into the car. The two old ladies had walked along London Road a way and as Olwenna's fat ankles looked even more swollen than usual I offered them a lift home.
As we turned up High Street, the stool sample rolled noisily along the dashboard from its resting place,  first one way then the other and both old ladies stopped their chatter to silently watch it on its journey underneath the windscreen.

I said nothing and neither did they.
The " shit in a pot" incident was never referred to again

Ball Trouble

The woman involved is usually rather aloof.
She's tiny and skinny and never says hello but always pats Winnie when they pass each other on the walkway.
I noticed that she always wears large sunglasses even in bad weather.
I'd say she was approaching 70.
As usual she had a chirpy, long legged mongrel with her and today she was swinging a ball which was attached to a wide plastic handle.
I was daydreaming so only realised that there would be a problem seconds too late, as moments after our paths crossed I turned to warn her not to get too close to Winnie with the ball.
For Winnie adores balls.
As I turned I saw the woman merrily swinging the toy for her own dog to play with and like lightening Winnie jumped up and grabbed the ball in her fat and very powerful mouth.
The woman pulled back on the handle.
Winnie pulled harder.
And without , even a pause the woman flew through the air like a rag doll and landed with a splat on the path.
I almost laughed at the very cartoon nature of it all, thank god I didn't.

I don't think she'll sue, and she did wave me away after I offered to pay for any damage to the sunglasses ( once we eventually found them) but at least she let me dust  her off briefly and check her for hip fractures.

Film

I was thinking about my love of cinema this morning and where it all came from.

Visiting the cinema in the 1970s could have been viewed by some as a rather dismal activity. The decade was not known as an uplifting period in movie history as some of the bleakest films found their way to the screen (Straw Dogs, Clockwork Orange,Dog Day Afternoon, Taxi Driver and One Flew Over The Cuckoo's nest) yet as a baby faced adolescent I was spared the trauma of trying to get into see an "X" certificate movie.....favouring the more teen friendly "A" and "AA" movies..............so of course we had the plethora of disaster films of the mid 70's to enjoy, as well as the likes of Jaws, BugsyMalone,The Omen,The Spy That Loved Me, Close Encounters and Alien)

The cinemas were large cold, uncomfortable orange and beige places that smelled of cigarettes and damp, but I loved making the effort to go to Rhyl on the bus to sit though a matinee by myself, the trouble to go the four miles, really made the ritual worthwhile.

There were always two features on offer,and always an ice cream lady with proper ice cream and wafers all set out in a box strung around her neck. (I never had the money to get an ice cream!)

Matinees were almost deserted every time I went, so even to this day, there is something quite reassuring and familiar when I am surrounded by empty seats and all alone in the dark, the lighter side of seventies movie life (remember the 1970's was a bleak economic, news worthy and political time), could wash over me.

This love of film fantasy has continued to be an important part of my life today. Love of the technicolour epic continues ( and always will do), but thankfully my cinematic interests and experiences are now wide and varied! 

The ritual of choosing the film, the paying for the ticket and the sitting down in a chosen ( and quiet) seat remains a joy and this evening if I go and see the biopic Churchill, my experience will be as fresh and as enjoyable as my 1974 trip to see The Poseidon Adventure!

Tell me what I am feeling

Lard arse

Stan stopped me today with a cheery " I was telling my Kit only yesterday that you've lost some weight ....you look better for it too....you were starting to waddle!" 
I smiled weakly
He was right....I had started to waddle.
I am beginning to feel the benefit of no scotch eggs, those daily long walks with Mary and the weekly drive to Holywell for weigh in at fat club.
So far I have lost 32 lbs!
" Thats the equivalent of sixteen bags of sugar! "  so screamed  leader Joanne at Fatclub amid ooohhhs and arrrhhhh  from the seated masses...but I find it more astonishing that it is the exact weight of William! A dog that I would have difficulty carrying for more than 50 yards!
No wonder I had found it hard reaching the bathtaps whilst having a bath!

Now I can reach those taps without rocking back and forth like a waterlogged Buddha
I can now march those two miles with Mary without gasping and farting
And I can get into my underpants without the usual hopping around and overbalancing.
My treble chin has now become a double chin.
And my non elasticated pants have now been dusted down to be worn.
I have 28 lbs to go!
How could I have got so big!? I ask myself now
The answer is an easy one....
I ate too much shit!

Pass A Tissue

Anne Dorval as the heart recipient 

I went to see the French " Transplant" movie Heal the Living tonight at Theatre Clwyd.

It chronicled the story of the transplant of a heart from donor to recipient ...now

I have been involved several times in the harvesting of organs .. so the movie intrigued me 

One scene, where a heart failure patient sleeps alongside her distraught lesbian lover ( who just happens to be a concert pianist ) I found especially moving and I had to smile that as I blubbed quietly in seat D13 a woman who often sits in C12 ( that I nod to but have never talked to) silently passed me a tissue over her shoulder!