Parròquia de Sant Bartomeu i Santa Tecla

Sitges is dominated by the ancient Church of St Bartomeu and St Tecla.
It presides over the town with all of the warmth and care of a broody fat hen and I love it because of that fact.

Yesterday I walked around it's base and giant walls as I have done so many times before and felt somewhat melancholy for a time as my husband wasn't there to enjoy the views with me as usual.
Even when you are silent,sharing a view from Sitges Church is a powerful event no matter how many times you have done it.

From the plaza in front of the Church doors I looked across the Promenade. I could see my great nephew on his skateboard, and his dad, my nephew, waved up at me. The rest of the family were dotted around, either swimming or walking or sleeping on their Sun chairs or playing rugby, but it was sort of  nice to sit by the Church in the setting sun and watch a thousand swifts soar around it's bell towers like a giant swarm of friendly bees.

Breakfast

The three palm trees outside the poshest villa on Sitges Promenade

Yesterday I played the " steal your lunch" game with a Spanish lady at the next table.
This was at breakfast, which at the Santa Maria is a large al fresco affair over looking the Prom.
I caught her eye after I watched her make two ham sandwiches out of a baguette .
She was lowering the sandwiches into her handbag.
She smiled as I countered by slipping a boiled egg and an orange into my man bag .
The game was on.
She ambled to the buffet table and replied with a donut and what suspiciously looked like an individual yogurt.
She smiled in that smug way people do when the think they have won.
But the smile faded as, in a last minute dash to the winning post I countered again with two cheese mini baguettes, a large piece of garlic sausage and a banana, which poked out of the side of my bag in defiance.
Funny what games you play on holiday.

Gay Club

My family know " f" all about gay matters

They know nothing about twinks and bears and lipstick lesbians, bulldog dykes and chubby chasers

They do now!

We had an active learning teaching afternoon on Sitges beach and tomorrow I shall be quizzing the family on knowledge learnt! 

A lovely day 

My neice ( in law) Rebecca....one of life's lovely people

My brother in law with a local drag queen ( who looks remarkably like my mother)

The family tonight....

Birthday

Ann with her flaming Whiskey cake

With Janet

Great niece Ellie

Sister in law Jayne with mick Jagger 

Rebecca and nephew Chris 

Nephew Pete , Traci, Louis and just seen Evie

The Shame!

At Liverpool, John Lennon airport.
Just been felt up by a very unattractive old man at security
He had trouble running his fingers around the waistline of my shorts
V V V embarrassing

Smile

Dear readers, as you know just recently a great many things have made me tear up.
This video is just one other....but it is one that does so in a rather lovely way.
Listen and enjoy Goodall's pragmatic gentleness
And through the tears
Smile

Holiday Haircut

It's as hot here in Trelawnyd as it is in Sitges .
80 degrees and rising.
Half my family are in Spain , the other half , including myself will be going tomorrow.
It's Ann's 70th birthday tomorrow..
There should be twelve of us going!
I've just had my holiday haircut.
My barber told me I looked too straight for Sitges
(She went last year with a gay friend and  reliably informed me that she didn't sleep for three days !)
I intend to sleep for three days.I told her.

Big thanks to Affable despot Jason who is giving me a lift to the airport at some ungodly time and also to Islwyn who will be walking the dogs before the Prof arrives home.
I will leave you with the above video. It serves no more purpose than to provoke discussion on a boring post
Hey ho

Pride

🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈

Before I came out  , I led a busy, social if fairly asexual life.
I had a large urban family of friends , most of whom I still keep in touch with, had a good job in a city that was as interesting as it was grubby and was as happy as I could ever be.
But I was gay and then hadn't quite let the cat out of the bag to myself so to speak

In this Pride week I recalled a moment that helped turn the tables on my slightly apathetic closet lifestyle
And it was all to do with Sheffield's Central city library's reference reading room.
I used to go there on a spare day off or a morning before a late shift.
I always liked the desks that all pointed in the same direction . The fact you only saw the back of people's heads as they studied and the delightfully Deco wooden book filled shelves and the giant  metal rimmed windows that filtered the light from Surrey Street and Tudor Square

That day I was reading. I can't remember what ...but I do remember  a young man walking by my seat from behind with his rucksack creaking as he brushed past. He half turned his head as he passed and dropped a small piece of paper in front of me before walking to the front of the seating area then turning right and back out of the room.
He had thick dark hair and wore a untidy green jumper like students often do.
I was suddenly conscious that other people may have seen his note drop and I felt strangely embarrassed by it, but carefully I opened the paper and read a Sheffield telephone number proceeded by the name Alan.
I had been cruised!
Cruised in the Sheffield City Library!

How exciting!
I may have not fully recognised my own gayness back then but thankfully someone else had and from almost nowhere and one phone call later I had my first proper gay date with a guy called Alan who had a scruffy green jumper and who lived in Sheffield.🌈🌈🌈

Mental Health

I'm meeting an old friend for brunch today.
It's at Bryn Williams at Porth Eirias .......they do a fucking fantastic avocado on toast there even if the service can be a little slow .
( google it if you want)!!!
My friend has a few mental health issues which we both often  talk about and laugh at.
Mental health issues are no different to any other issues I think...they are as part of a person as their  shoe size!
We all need support and a plan in order to deal with them...
And thank fuck most people now realise this is a truism ....it's part of modern life

Also thank goodness for William, Harry and Kate , they have recently championed just how " normal" mental health issues have become....
....to me mental health issues are as normal as breathing......just like physical issues...and I remember now with some affection that in 1998 that I had counselling about my unstable mother ...therapy that  grounded me better than any self help review would ever done.

Share you mental health stories today...share and be empowered.... eh?
" share it with the group". X

Lady Troubridge

It's 23 degrees in the garden and Winnie has been given strict instructions to lie nipple down of the cool concrete of the shady patio.
For the next five days I am on my own in the cottage and I have been musing what to do with myself today.
The roads have been busy with day trippers, so after buying salad items, crab sticks and lime cordial and half toying with a trip to Colwyn Bay, I have contented myself with a comfortable sit under the garden parasol with the 1926 publication of Etiquette and Entertaining by Lady Troubridge
I'm presently reading the chapter entitled Modern maids and how to use them! 

I'm liking Lady Troubridge, her encouraging words to the faint hearted 1920's housewife is true spirt that won the war stuff.

"We are not all born with courage, but it's latent in all of us and can and should be pulled out whenever the occasion arises. Pulled out for all these fears. For the little ones first, by way of practice , and then, when you've made friends with courage , you'll only have to stretch out your hand to find it materialising at command. .............never ever be afraid . Be sad and sorry sometimes , because we all must be that way now and then . Be perplexed because life is not all plain sailing . But never let life be too much for you. It won't if you take as your motto these three words which I'll repeat again........NEVER BE AFRAID." 

Lady Troubridge

" Who lives here?"

It's a beautiful summer morning and the cottage windows are wide open.
I was ironing a shirt in the kitchen when I heard the ramblers outside.
They had walked up through Graham's sheep fields and were heading for the Gop.
I heard a tinkle of a laugh and a woman's voice.
" who do you think lives here?" She asked
The women were playing a sort of game children do
Who lives in a house like this?....
The game had started next door when the walkers had spied sailor John's homebuilt sailing boat
I paused my ironing to listen
I wasn't surprised with the comments
" lovely little garden"
" nice flowers in the window "
" awwwww look at that little dog asleep" ( George)
" tasteful" 
" an older lady with class?" ( I liked that one)
" no an older couple " whispered " underpants hanging!" 
" no look at the kitchen tiles, very retro , it's someone younger "
" they have a wood stove whoever they are?"
" a holiday cottage perhaps?" 
" no there's an antique soup tureen on the window ledge... its someone older and they own it"  

I couldn't resist joining the discussion so I popped my head around the kitchen wall
" actually it's a middle aged homosexual with fabulous taste who lives here !" I trilled
And the women all cackled with good humour

Lighten Your Heart

Well I don't know about you but after the earlier post I am in need of a lifting of the heart.

Have a look at this video, it will do the trick.

To red light funding of the movie The Greatest Showman ,the studio big wigs got together with the cast and crew to run through some of the libretto. The proposed star of the show , Hugh Jackman had been told he could not sing at the event due to recent cancer surgery on his nose but in this moment captured on film, he couldn't stop himself taking over from his understudy and the result is pure magic

For Joe And Kerry

who lost a dear friend on Tuesday

The Power of the Dog by Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware 
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find – it’s your own affair, –
But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!),
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone – wherever it goes – for good,
You will discover how much you care, 
And will give your heart to a dog to tear!

We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent,
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve;
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long –
So why in – Heaven (before we are there) 
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

Repeat Performance

For Ellen

Ocean's Eight

The film begins with a white faced Sandra Bullock in prison fatigues talking to camera.
She has lank dark long hair and is botoxed to buggery
My sister turned to me and whispered " Bloody hell It's Michael Jackson!"
Unfortunately Bullock does indeed resemble the plastic pop star and her expressionless face takes something vital away from this the latest of the " Ocean" comedy heist franchise.
It's hard to make a good comedy when the leading lady looks somewhat vacant .
Which is a shame.
Having said that Ocean's Eight is what it is.......it's an entertaining heist romp with a star cast of female crooks stealing the diamonds from a greedy old fashion house that can take the loss. The " ladies" are therefore all sympathetic Robin Hood types and although Bullock is no charm filled George Clooney you do end up rooting that the gems are indeed swiped from the bad guys.
As the complicated and totally unbelievable heist plan is uncovered we meet the mixed bag of lady criminals recruits.   Helena Bonham Carter ( looking like the wreck of the Hesperus) , an underused Cate Blanchett, Rihanna in dreadlocks et al all have their brief parts to play in the comedy romp but surprisingly it is Ann Hathaway as a not-so-dumb superstar actress who showcases the robbery diamonds and James Corden as an insurance investigator who turns up at the end of the movie who shine above the ensemble performances. Their turns are naturally funny and satisfying.

Ocean's Eight is a light , frothy romp. And at that level, it entertains.
7/10

Sulky Bitch

I was completing some paperwork and videoed her as I was doing so.

She wasn't happy at being ignored

Bulldogs cannot stand being ignored

Constants

My Sister Ann Williams BEM ( British Empire Medal)

I have known my sisters for 56 years.
56!
It's the longest relationships I've ( or they've ) ever had.
I'm sure that Ann won't mind me stating that she is 70 this year, actually her birthday is next week and she has arranged an open house celebration at a shabby chic hotel in Sitges to mark the event.
Circumstances meant that we were unable to go, but finally after a bit of wrangling and some   Herculean easyJet Internet work I've managed to sort a flight and have organised a whistlestop jaunt to Spain .
My entire family will be there the day I go and it is right I am there to raise a glass to a family matriarch who has stood in my corner for over half a century. 

Never Enough

EveryONE has a story

The other week I saw teenage boffin out walking with a young lady, they were ambling down the lane chugging beers as they did so.
I waved from the car!
Last night when messaging the boffin about prospective dog sitting I asked him about her
"I KNEW you'd be itching to ask me 😂😂😂."
Came the reply!
I'm such a transparent nosey old git!

Everyone has a story to tell.
Everyone.
And we often forget that, so obsessed we are with our own lives, and the lives of celebrities and the famous.
Mrs A stopped by the kitchen wall yesterday. She marvelled at a deep purple clematis flower that was growing over our back shed.
" Many years ago I once went to a dance in Mayfair with an officer of the Coldstream guards and wore a flower like that in my hair" she remarked rather wistfully
" The Guards'  motto rather suited him" she added with a sly smile " it translates from the Latin as second to none "

Like I said....everyone has a story to tell
You only have to ask.....
I cut her a flower and presented it to her over the wall.....

Everything Has A Story

I started full time paid employment in the September of 1980 when I was just 18
I was a junior bank clerk at the National Westminster Bank in Rhyl.
I was a terrible employee, but I was popular enough with the junior staff, a big bunch of youngsters who worked behind the scenes in the machine room.
In October 1980 I received my first pay cheque
And what did I buy?
A CB radio? A new grandad shirt?. Brand new furry seat covers for my Austin 1300? The latest Yazoo LP?
Naw
I bought a Carlton ware 1930s lobster fruit bowl

And I was pleased as punch with it

Postscript 
On Friday I received a fuel delivery from our local coal merchants. As the delivery guy stopped to present me with the invoice he noticed the bowl on the kitchen counter top and said pointed to it saying " I like that!" It was only then I realised I had owned it for 38 years