Out Of Hours

I'm typing this in A&E reception. I'm waiting to see the doctor from the Wales out of hours service.
I have an appointment time which seems to be running to time. The Walking wounded , I am informed will have to wait 5 hours to see the doctor.
Two men sitting behind me smell heavily of stale alcohol and vomit.
Such is life.

I've never had a bladder infection as bad as this before. I'm fine until I suddenly get the urge to go and boy do I need to go there and then!
So much so I had to suffer the indignity of an unavoidable accident just as I was putting petrol in the car.
Hopefully no one noticed.
I've hidden my urine sample under my coat. I've already tested it at home.
I need antibiotics for sure and a good sleep. This getting up thing, every hour isn't good.
Hey ho

Pissing Glass

When I was in my thirties I suffered from recurrent bladder infections, I've not had one in an age now...until last night

Full Bed

The Prof is away and still I don't get the bed to myself.
I'm off to bed shortly..... Winnie and William have already gone up the stairs with Albert.
Mary is waiting for me to get up from the armchair. George, as usual is snoring in his own bed next to the kitchen radiator.
This is Mary this morning as we went back to bed after wees in another sudden 7 am snowstorm

She slept there all night

Red Faced But Smiling

I embarrassed myself today.

Last week I'd been playing around with my phone's ring tones .

Today I had a phone call as I stood in the Marks and Spencer cafe queue 

My phone was in my manbag ( right at the bottom) 

This was my ringtone

I've changed it back to a bell tone now! Well I did it hiding in a booth in the cafe! 

I love embarrassing stories. This one is an old one but I think it's worth repeating

Back in 1991 I was celebrating the multicultural social events organised in Sheffield when the World Student Games were held in the city.

I went with a friend to the Crucible Theatre which was hosting a free night of folk music and dance (in the foyer!)...as usual I was dressed down for the event (t shirt and ripped jeans! - remember the fact I had ripped jeans on)
but as the whole event was very relaxed I kind of blended in!
Anyhow I remember sitting on the steps of the bar looking down at the singers and crowds below..and one guy, who was sitting at a table with some friends caught my eye!
I looked at him.....he looked at me! and suddenly I thought "my lucks in!!!"
Anyhow this game of glances carried on for a while ( I remember the guy looked a little like a bearded Jake Gyllenhall) and I did that half smile and hair toss flirting thing! before I caught sight of him downing his pint then weave his way through the tables to walk to where I was sat up on the stairs!
He leaned over slowly so I could smell his after shave and whispered gently into my ear
"Hey mate...I wanted to tell you that you have a rip in your jeans and one of your b*lls is sticking out!"...he suddenly left and went to sit down again!!
What happened to me?..........well I died .....died in a pool of rancid shame

I Tonya

Afternoon Cinema ( There's nothing better)

Battling Alley cat Margot Robbie

I Tonya is a comedy/drama that has a great deal to say, very little of it about ice skating I must say.
Filmed in a part documentary, part direct to camera and part traditional narrative style it tells the conflicting story of the life of " redneck" figure skater Tonya Harding. Her glum upbringing, her relationships with her mother and husband and her eventual fall from grace from Olympic glory after that incident with Nancy Kerrigan.
It's a story of surviving what you are given in life , as Tonya from a very early age, was subjected to consistent verbal and physical abuse from her reptilian foul mouthed mother LaVona ( Alison Janney) who was obsessed in mailing her daughter an ice skating star.
The sport had no place for a junior star who couldn't afford the trappings of this all American middle class activity. When the other competitors wore fur coats when off the ice , young Tonya had to make do with a home made rabbit pelt coat and this heartbreaking snobbery within the sport sadly followed her to the end of her career. Despite talent she was scuppered from the start.
Played magnificently and with a subtle sympathy by Margot Robbie, the adult Tonya is portrayed as a product of her childhood and of a violent marriage, a battling, foul mouthed ally cat with very few allies and with her back up against the wall.
It's a towering performance by Robbie.
The Initial story of abuse makes way for the telling of the incompetent attempt by Harding's husband Jeff ( Sebastian Stan) to scupper Tonya's rival Nancy Kerrigan and although Tonya escapes his abuse and her toxic relationship with LaVona, her subsequent fall from grace is rather heartbreaking to watch.

Alison Janney ( I bet she had fun playing this mother from hell)

Like I said Margot Robbie is stunning in the title role. Stan almost matches her scene for scene but unsurprisingly Janney almost steals the show in a fringe wearing , chain smoking mother from hell performance. Her final scenes to camera with a small parrot on her shoulder have a special hypnotic and almost hysterical power all of their own .
9/10

Average Morning

The Prof was up and out for work at 3.30 am! He will return on Friday night.
I got up around 7.30 and baked a cake for a friend who is having a charity coffee morning.
I dropped off the still warm cake after nine, took Mary to have her claws clipped,
And then had a row with a man in an invalid trolley who beeped me to get out of his way on a single track footpath on the railway bridge in Prestatyn.
He tried to play the disabled card to excuse his  rudeness.
I played the nurse that worked on a spinal injury unit for two decades so knows better card
Like I said a pretty average morning all told.
Off to see I Tonya later.
A treat to myself given The Prof is away

Leather Goods

Leather gift?

The Prof had left the bathroom cabinet open early this morning
I only say this because the ever curious Albert had seen the fact and after standing on the cistern in order to scan the shelves he had knocked several of the Prof's toiletries into the un flushed bowl
Not an auspicious start to our anniversary day!
I fished them out using a set of kitchen tongs...

Anyhow
We've been married three years today.
Three bloody  years!
Now according to Wikipedia I should be buying The Prof a gift made from leather!
Oh err missus .....leather chaps perhaps?
They are few and far to be had in Sunny Trelawnyd .
The nearest thing I can think of as a leather anniversary gift is a nice rump steak!
I'll pop down to Marks' later to get one.

At our wedding, my best friend Nuala made a speech. I remember her saying how wonderful it was living in a time where two men who loved each other could get married. " How fantastic is that? !" She said to the room and she was right.
The Prof and I are fortunate to live in an age where we can officially tie the knot and bask in those benefits formally enjoyed by the hetero brigade!
I can refer to the man that I haven chose to share my life with as husband
Not boyfriend, man friend , significant other or partner
But husband!

Things have changed so very much......

ps A big thank you to Wendy R.J ! who gave me a bunch of anniversary flowers while I stood in the supermarket

The Walking Dead ( Episode 9'- spoilers)

From the start I kind of hated Jadis
The clipped monosyllabic way of communicating
The junk yard which didn't ring true
The almost insect type way her followers moved
It was one step too far for me....rather like the time Carol became serial killer
However tonight's episode showed Jadis as human.
A bohemian type artist who scavenged for materials for her art, she was finally shown as a character with a heart and broken heart at that after Simon massacared her junk yard people in retribution for her triple cross.
Pollyanna macintosh finally had a chance to act in tonight's episode and act she did.
And I actually started to kind of like the character

Evil Evil Winnie!

I know it's overkill but I just wanted to share this , the best of the French photographer's dog studies!
Doesn't she look evil! I love it!
Spent the day supervising the BT men ( who are installing high speed broadband) so I have filled my time making a bonfire, baking banana loaves and oiling the kitchen worktops!
Trendy Carol ( in a lovely new ski jacket and matching pants) stopped to tell me she is binge watching old seasons of The Walking Dead and is loving it! 
Episode 9 tonight! 

For those that don't know .....Rachel commented that Winnie resembled Ena Sharples who was a battleaxe character from the .1960s /70s U.K. soap Opera Coronation Street .

Canine Amelie

Mary as Audrey Tautou 

Ok, it's another doggy photo but it is here to illustrate a visit by a rather enigmatic French photographer.
Now, here I have to concede that she wasn't working for a French movie mogul , intent on hiring Helen Mirren as Trellis. , Russ Crowe as me and Jennifer Lawrence as Trendy Carol! No !
She was a friend of the daughter of Village Hall sorter and all round good egg .....Sandra , ( the village sweetheart that helps all and who asks for nothing!)
Now the French photographer just wanted to photograph a local subject out of her comfort zone and of course Sandra thought of me ! ( well the dogs and not me personally)
So yesterday the trendy-as-hell Audrey Hepburn look-a-like arrived  but with unrealistic expectations!
"Can you get em to sit still together ?" She asked in a lovely thick accent
" have you got any Valium to slip them ? " I realistically asked her
She did the best she could... and to be honest it was impressive..especially as Winnie ruined her designer jeans with 16 sets of muddy paw prints.
The French lady did a good job even though (I don't think the French understand the Hollywood maxim  never work with children and animals!" 
It amused me when , In her thick French accent the photographer growled
" Can ve get them to be still ?" 
"Hit em with a stick" was my only advice
Hey ho

" Cheese!"

We had a beautiful French professional photographer arrive at the cottage today.
( it's a long story)
Suffice to say I wasn't the object of her affection....
She took several hundred photos ...I am presently sorting through some of them

" Olla Winifred"

I thought Winnie had taken a turn for the worse yesterday afternoon.
She was refusing food ,  vomiting and was more lethargic than usual ( if that could be at all possible)
The Spanish vet seemed more interested in Winnie's knackered baby teeth than her bowels but gave her a physical examination , injected her with an antiemetic and gave me some oral ranitidine to settle her stomach.
"Tomorrow, try her with some pasta and chicken " she lisped
Winnie looked very sorry for herself as the vet bid us " adios "
Back at home ( sorry intensive care) Winnie dozed fitfully by the fire and periodically presented her sore tummy to me to be rubbed gently.
This morning things seem to be somewhat better

The hint of a grin following roast chicken breasts and spaghetti

Bird Seed

These animals will be the death of me.
I bought three kilos of mixed bird seed on Wednesday  and yesterday tipped it into a supermarket carrier bag  in readiness to take it over to the snowy field.
I'd only left the bag on the floor for a minute or so, but that was just enough time for a certain bulldog to silently push her big fat ugly head inside and eat over a kilo of it.
That was around three pm.
Nine pm the shit literally hit the fan.
Now, for those that don't know, bulldogs are drama queens.
When illness hits, they can chew the scenery better than Joan Crawford in her best shoulder pads .
Last night she obviously had severe belly discomfort .
With a face like Buster Keaton she paced the cottage constantly, stopping every few minutes for me to rub her tummy. and when she finally puked up handfuls of the birdseed  she sadly presented me with a sick stained face to wipe with a damp tea towel.
That was around nine pm like I said.
At ten pm the shits started, and within seconds I had almost finished off two kitchen rolls and a container of kitchen cleaner !
The bird seed, shall we say had not changed through her alimentary canal, and so peppered my shiny new kitchen floor like mucky hundreds and thousands .
It got everywhere! 
Thank god the Prof had gone to bed.
By eleven I had managed to get her to settle on the couch by holding her paw in a supportive way and covering her face with the tea towel.
This morning as we wandered weakly through the drifts in the lane , she suddenly let out a terrific fart
And a little cloud of bird seed puffed out onto the snow like magic

Stupid is as Stupid does....

Dumb and dumber

Many hens won't walk on snow.
I don't blame them really
But when, at the end of the day, they refuse to return to the safety and warmth of a hen house because  their feet are cold , well they can become right little pains in the arse.
Last night around ten pm and in sub zero temperatures
I tried to cajole the bachelors from the top of the hen house roof.
Using the only thing to hand ( the kitchen mop) I managed to get them off the roof only to have them crash land in the two separate neighbours' gardens.
Now I don't know about you, but galloping around someone else's garden in the dark whilst carrying a kitchen mop doesn't really cut the mustard but gallop around I did until  I had cornered one of the stupid little bastards in sailor John's compost heap and had effectively hog tied it inside my beanie hat.
The other daft sod crashed arse over tit in Trendy Carol's garden , so I had to be as quiet as I could not to disturb her dogs ( not an easy task on a gravel drive I can tell you)
Here, twice I fell over garden features disguised by the snow before nabbing the little c€*t as he pushed his head into the privet hedge .( thus thinking himself invisible)
I was cold and wet and numb by the time I got into the cottage.
And very pissed off
Here I fell asleep on the couch covered in dogs.
I didn't wake up until 6 am this morning

Gift

The Prof is away, flying down to Cardiff 

I've been to the vets on a med run, 

These flowers were on the doorstep when I returned

I've done nothing to deserve them 

The label with them had only one word written on it

" Trellis" 

Friends

I had a conversation the other day about a friendship gone sour.
It was relationship that had lasted over twenty years
The gist of the problem seemed to be a minor falling out between the sons of the friends, a spat which in turn ignited a falling out between the moms.
To an outsider it all seemed rather petty, but to the people involved I am sure, everything seemed like the end of the world.
I think this sort of thing happens predominately in womens friendships rather than in men's. Men tend to move on from friendships more easily than women. They also tend not to have as many and invest less in the importance of them.
Of course I am talking generally here. There are always men ( like myself) who enjoy friendships as much as women do.
Recently a friend I made way back in my twenties messaged me for an impromptu meet. We had grown apart over thirty years predominantly due to his inability to keep in touch , ( a male trait me thinks) and although my curiosity was tweaked by the offer, too much water had passed under the bridge, for me to make the effort to meet.
Friends move on as life changes us all.I guess.
I had a close friend in Sheffield who has subsequently found God after we moved to Wales. She has ignored any effort I have made to contact her. Born again Christians don't " do" gays I suppose even when two decade before we celebrated gay pride together.
Yes some friends move away on their own.
Two weeks ago an old blog friend reappeared after a three year silence. There was no explanation of his disappearance save for the posting of an enigmatic poem and nothing more.
Do friends act in such a way?
In my mind no....however others would probably disagree .
Horses for courses I guess.

Have you ever fallen out with a friend?
I'd be interested to know

The Beast From The East

The Beast From The East, has surprisingly made it over to the West and has quietly blanketed the village with powdery snow. Some of the neighbours had already topped up Irene with granary Crusts of bread and apples, but she is a Scottish Soay ewe, and is hard as nails.
The bachelors, typical of little men generally, have refused to leave the warmth of their hen house.

I got up at 6 am in order to take the car up to the main road so that the Prof could get to work ( he's not very good at driving the car up the lane in icy conditions) then after the briefest of dog walks ( Winnie's expression of you've got to be fucking kidding?!" When she first saw the snow was priceless) we all went back to bed.

I tell you this as part of a bit of local colour.
I'll blog properly this afternoon

The Walking Dead- Honour

Brother and sister Carl and Judith

The strength of a good drama lies in its abilities to move its audience.
Over it's past three seasons or so The Walking Dead has not failed to thrill and to provoke its sizeable fan base with  grittiness, violence and tense set pieces, but it seemed to have lost some of it's humanity, and the warmth ying that provides a necessary balance to its zombie yang.
Tonight, the balance has been restored when one of the original Atlanta four, Carl Grimes ( Chandler Riggs), finally died after being bitten by an arbitrary undead.
Now if we stuck with the series true timeline , Carl would be around thirteen at best, but only in the last year or so the actor has suddenly grown into his eighteen years and now looks his age. I suspect this is the true reason why the show has written him out which is a shame as tonight Riggs showed he could act.
Wisely Carl's demise was filmed in a gentle and almost sentimental way. Through flashbacks we see his tender goodbyes with sister Judith and as his father and a heartbroken Michonne look on, he shares his wishes for peace to prevail in this all too rather bleak world.
The episode was incredibly moving, (especially the moment when Carl told Michonne that she was his best friend) and for all of  The Walking Dead excesses, this emotional romp Was the right way to go.... It was warm and genuine and emotional and I hope this signifies a subtle change in the drama  from now on.
Excitement and terror and horror are vital for a good zombie drama but the drama is not a drama unless we care about the characters. To care for them we need to see them in a more rounded and in a  less frenetic way. Light and shade is needed, oh and a personal plea for a tiny bit more humour.
Humour would be vital in surviving the apocalypse I think.
And so as Carl bravely took his own life to spare any further psychological trauma to his already un hinged father, Daryl et al journeyed to Hilltop as Carol and the now psycho killer Morgan saved Ezekiel in a bloody kill fest to keep even the most geek of geek fans happy.
The scene is set for the final battle me thinks but now there is a hope that things will eventually get a tad more balanced.

Laters

I've written two posts and have deleted both as they were both shite.
I shall write a concrete one later after I watch the return of The Walking Dead.later.
hey ho

Shop Bought

This morning I found myself on a long bar table with eight teenage girls.
I was eating scrambled eggs and a mighty fine Cumberland sausage
They were mostly eating carbohydrates
Their track suits bore the logo " Scotland" .
I think they were part of some sports team
The girls were well spoken and mannered.
Two were discussing a latest news story highlighted on one's phone screen, while another was reading from an iPad.
The troupe had been housed in the rooms above ours and we had heard not a peep from them overnight.
Kids seem so cosmopolitan nowadays .
I thought this when another girl of eleven or so called over to the group from the buffet
to ask if a certain Jenny wanted a warmed croissant 
" its only supermarket!" She said with an apologetic shrug