Going Gently

Urges

When I go to get my eyes tested I always get the urge to kiss the optician when he looks deep into my eyes .
It's a very strong urge
I almost pucker up as soon as I feel the smell of aftershave.
I can't be the only one
Surly

This morning I took the bike into Halfords and was supervised by Dom who had a ginger beard and an impressive sleeve tattoo.
Now I am not a lover of tattoos but his sleeve was an incredibly muted depiction of a koi carp amid flowers and it was so beautiful I had the sudden urge to stroke it as he entered my details into his computer.

Of course I didn't
but I would have loved to

Its a quiet day today, and it's sunny.
I am working tonight, and I have not given my notice in as yet as I am waiting for my official start date at the hospice.
I am about to cut the lawn.
Trendy Carol has just passed in an impressively billowing pair of snakeskin print trousers!
I asked her if it was crocodile!
what do I know?
Laurie (the soft spoken Scot) stopped me this morning to say that he was thrilled to get a mention on the blog. Him and his family worked so very hard to put on the folk festival this weekend so I told him it was the least I could do...Ive had such a nice weekend I want to maintain the momentum of it all.
So apart from some unsociable nursing shifts I have organised a lot over the next two weeks. Badminton with Gorgeous Dave,theatre with my sister, cinema with a friend, choir x2 , a bike ride ( the bike is returned to me on Thursday!) a church singalong! and a two day visit to Sheffield when I have booked to see all my old friends for tea, and supper and lunch and walks in the Botanical Gardens
hey ho
You have got to scratch an urge when they come...….

A Face Like Thunder

Last night I went out with some new friends to celebrate a birthday

It was a nice meal with an eclectic bunch of characters which included an Italian Professor doing medical research along the North Wales coast and a precocious but articulate 14 year old who found me terribly amusing!

The food and the company at the Erskine Arms in Conwy was delightful!

I got home late and fed Winnie and Mary hours past their dinner time

before walking them around the Churchyard with a lazy swagger

Albert wasn't happy at all

I had made him wait for his dinner too, and he had not eaten since early morning...

but as usual he followed us with a sudden bad tempered swagger and as we entered the lych-gate he jumped up on the wall and boxed my face with very angry paws

Cats always bear a grudge

worse than any gay man I have ever known

he sat there glaring at me an hour after he had finally eaten and sat next to me as I watched the 1952 film noir Movie On Dangerous Ground with a face like thunder
but he wouldn't even let me pet him

"The Greenland Whale".... and my scruffy people...

Hattie and I doing selfies

I've had the best of nights last night!!!

The folk weekend in Trelawnyd is something I've never done before, so I pulled up my bra straps and took myself off by myself to see what all the fun was about.
I had just bought myself a cider ( I never drink cider!!!) when a Scottish fiddle player Ryan Young and a guitar player Jenn Butterworth started a traditional duelling banjo type of set.
It was magical

I was transported immediately to that scene in Whisky Galore when Gordon Jackson's straight laced mother attended a ceiligh and as the music built in its intensity she drank the whisky left out on the shelf and enjoyed herself.
I downed another cider,...

As the pace of the fiddle increased, the crowd stamped their feet on the village hall's floor, and I stamped too, loving every minute of it, especially liking the experience as I recognised the crowd as " my people" , a few hundred scruffy bastards dancing and clapping under the felt bunting without guile and with a great deal of good humour

I saw lots of people I knew. Cameron, his mum and dad, The Manley's...Pippa ( who complained she could hear the harp!) and eventually met my fellow choir member Hattie who took me by the hand and told me I had to stand at the front of the crowd to listen to Sam Kelly and The Lost Boys who sang a collection of songs which included Cornish language ballads, Welsh and Irish foot tappers and a lovely Canadian Greenland Whale shanty.
After this Cameron's mum told me she had some news for the blog
She had a 5 foot foxglove in her garden
I told her I would photograph it today xx

The night finished around eleven after Cameron had bounced around dancing with a dozen others in
front of the stage and the air was cool and refreshing on the village green after the confines of the concert.
Hattie waved her goodbyes as I sat for a moment on the benches my Flower Show bought for the village to use some years ago now.
And I let the night's dew cool my face

And I thought......to myself ...with some slightly drunken pride....

I am home......

People Day

It's Friday morning and Winnie is noisily trying to retrieve a couple of rogue garden peas from under the kitchen cabinets
She has the nose of a blood hound and will not rest until anything edible is found and devoured .
I am late up today as I was at Samaritans on a night lift last night.
True to form I was stopped by the police on the way home.

It a " people " day today.
I called in to see how Jason and his heroic hand was doing only to left standing in a queue of small boys by his front door who I presumed were waiting to play with liv, Jason's youngest.
They weren't
After I had found out the " hand" news
Jason cheerfully piped up to the boys " Are you ready for a game of football?"
They had come around to play with him and not Liv
This amused me no end.

Mary and I stopped by the Green this morning to chat to village Elder Bryn. The conversation centred about the Folk festival weekend in the hall , to which I had been given a free pass to by the organisers
I had already chatted to Laurie, one of the organisers , who is a quietly spoken Scot who has nightmares controlling his floppy footed setter, Barney.
For months now, on a sort of ad hoc basis Laurie would knock on the lane window as he and Barney were passing and I would join him with the sanguine Winnie in tow. Together we would walk Indian file around the Churchyard and within minutes Barney would change from an over excited, defensively aggressive hound to a bored bulldog sidekick.
Dogs are at their most relaxed when following each other out on a walk, it's that wolf line mentality and I have found it is a trick that calms even the most aggressive of dogs .
Only a month or so ago , after Laurie had calmed down as much as Barney did I walk close by and give him Winnie's lead. He was absolutely gob smacked that the two dogs were stood side by side without trouble......of course his reduction of stress had a little to do with it all
First train the owner!
It's not rocket science

The new vicar ( who has the delightfully Blog positive name of Dot Gosling) is opening up the Church for a sing song next week.
I think she has pink streaks in her hair , a fact which has shocked at least one member of the congregation, but she's gone all progressive by flying the village with information and by asking for requests.
One of the congregation who lives in Rhodfa Arthur ( Rhodfa is Avenue in Welsh) asked me to go as she knows I can sing. liv Randa is doing one of the readings so I have already said I will go

I need to go
I am meeting my one Welsh gay mate Mave for lunch today and will need to iron a shirt as my best Walking Dead T shirt will just not do.

Mave comments here quite regularly and is a cross between Kenneth Williams and Joan Crawford with his pithy and filthy one liners.
Mind you Mrs Trellis is not adverse to a bit of gay banter. I saw her yesterday and she commented that it was London Gay Pride this weekend
" Apparantly there are a lot of hot pants being worn!" She said
I have no idea where she found that one out!

Hey ho

A Light Read

I'm going into the hospice to complete paperwork
But I thought coffee and some light reading was in order
Has anyone of you had this conversation?

Bluebell +

Yes that's Winnie trying to look invisible in the back

My soon to be ex husband has taken all the things from the cottage he wanted save for his bike which he has instructed me to get rid of.
It's a much better bike than mine and so in a fit of testosterone I went down to Halfords today to buy a new bike rack. I have the idea to have the bike fully serviced then use it with Mary in some sort of baby carrier
" is it easy to fit?" I asked the salesboy when he pointed to a box with two dozen separate parts in it
" Any moron could do it!" he chirped up helpfully
When I got home, neighbour sailor John smiled ruefully when I told him I was just about to assemble it
" Call me if you need a hand" he offered
He knows me and my lack of dexterity so well

But I did it myself I really did... And John's eyebrows bounced upwards in an impressive inverterted v when he spied my handiwork

Honesty

Perhaps a decade ago now I worked with a bit of a misery.
She was footloose and fancy free, had a career on the rise, and was ( and is ) an attractive woman with a sparkling smile.
But back then, she was clearly unhappy about something and like many the causation was hidden away unrecognised and nebulous.
A twelve hour shift became a bore when she was on
And her moans almost became a habit.
Now my relationship with her was( is) a good one , and I knew I could banter with her, and so with a smile and a lightness I told her I was only going to allow her ten moans per twelve hour shift.
A rationing of complaints
We laughed about it
But the message had struck home
She stopped moaning

Recently she referred to that bit of honesty
She's an Earth mother of three and couldn't be happier
But then, she admitted the moaning had become a norm

I am not sure what I'm trying to say here
I guess we all, at times need a mirror held up to us by a friend
But one that is held with affection and not with criticism

Promenading

At this time in Sitges I would be promenading alongside a thousand other Europeans in the still roast hot air of Northern Spain
Tonight, in Trelawnyd, it's still sunny with blue skies,
But it's pleasantly cooler, and few people are about.
Mary and I went out to Promenade .
With no choir in Gwaenysgor on the cards, we walked to the hall to listen to the Male Voice Choir at their professional rehursal. They were singing Elvis' Can't help falling in love with you rather gently and beautifully. A district nurse on a late visit walked out from the pensioner bungalows as I leant on the Hall wall.
She looked tired

I smiled to myself. When my family came to listen to my choir's concert the other night, my sister in law got the venue wrong and went to sit in with the male voice choir rehursal instead of ours.
The chattering Welsh singers were, I think, quite taken with their small audience of one!

Eve Randa was sitting in her bedroom window as we passed. She looked every inch the slightly bored pre teen that she is but she told me that her dad was doing ok.
I saw him today as I drove through the village. He was chatting to Animal Helper Pat.
She had had her hair done!

There is a folk concert in the village hall this weekend http://www.therecordjournal.co.uk/
I hope to go on Friday.
Two nuns in light grey habits stopped their car to allow us to cross the road by the school( I couldn't make it up) and as the sun dropped low over the West of the village lighting up the graveyard in a burst of yellow ,my red geraniums, planted out only a month ago, seemed to bloom robustly on the kitchen wall
A bit of Sitges in Wales I thought

Skid Marks

The dirty holiday clothes , sweaty skid marked shorts and the like are in the washer and I'm lighting the fire in order to have hot water for a nice long bath.
It's nice to be home.
The answerphone had five messages waiting for me when I got in
All but one unimportant , the hospice wants me to go in to sort out some paperwork.
The dogs were pleased to see me too.
George's death has unbalanced them somewhat.
I didn't sleep until 4.30 am, the late night flight home wrong footed me and now I feel groggy and a bit listless .
It feels cold
No choir tonight which is a shame
Jamie and his 1940s RAF moustache are on holiday too

Thank you to Yorkshire Liz for this gift, it was waiting for me when I got home

Bench

From my third floor balcony I have a lovely view of Sitges Promenade and Church
In a corner near the beach steps is a single rainbow bench
It's a favourite meeting place of couples, straight and gay.
I've watched many during my time here
Meet, kiss, laugh, and argue there

This morning the bench is empty

I go home today.

The sky is blue

Sunday

My family arrived in dribs and drabs over the past days and so with a final group of eleven souls ( the youngest being seven and the oldest 71) , the dinner table was noisy and animated to say the least.

I love these big, galloping, emotionally warm meals,

With their chatter and laughter that you can dip into and out of with non judgmental ease

Having said this I love the simple quiet solitary breakfasts too and this morning knowing the family will rise in staggered groups, I got up early to watch the other characters and to think

In Sitges there is a somewhat scruffy little square each corner of which has a bar.

Now each bar faces it's seats two by two, and each paring faces the opposite bar like seats in a theatre.

It's a square to watch the Promenaders

It's a square to watch the talent.

"a good natured meat market" as my sister-in-law described it

I went to the museum Del Cau Ferrat yesterday to look at the art exhibitions. It was cool and calm and quiet in the Baroque rooms with their blue walls and heavy woodwork and afterwards I sat in the shade of one of the many palms and ate a sweet crab and pineapple mix bought at a little supermarket with my fingers.

I am aware that I choose to pick up on the more whimsy part of this Spanish town, very much like how I prefer to pick up on the whimsy of the little Welsh village that I live in.

I make no apologies for this. Like anywhere, including Sitges the darker side of life lies only a hair's breath away.... with its sex and open relationship fun on line, dark rooms and very very late nights.....

I'm off to read a book on the beach

Hey ho

People Watching

I was out on a walk on the beach yesterday when a rather buxom black woman who was covered in what seemed like rather a lot of gold asked me if I could speak English.
She was sat on a low wall and looked in pain
" Do you know how to ring a taxi ? " she asked "I think I've broken my leg"
She wagged a rather large left leg at me
I told her I was nurse
Her ankle was swollen just a little but she let me prod it a little and I told her that I thought it was sprained
It's amazing what people allow you to touch if you say that you're a nurse!
" what do I do for that?" She asked , her anxieties reducing to almost normal"
" Rest, gin and ice!" I told her
She fist bumped me, which made me feel rather hip.

A house sparrow homed in on my breakfast this morning and was eating my scrambled egg when I returned to my table with coffee.
An old Belgium queen in an oversized straw hat at the next table looked shocked when I continued to eat it and wafted himself rather too energetically with a napkin in order to recover.

I love people watching

Bartomeu and Santa Tecia

Sitges wouldn't be Sitges if it wasn't for the Church of Saint Bartomeu and Santa Tecia.
I had a walk around it this morning and it's cool Baroque interior was a relief from the 32 degree heat outside.
It's been nice to amble. I've bought some books from a stall near the beach and some sort of chickpea dip, bread and grapes for lunch.
I was given a cruising friendly nod and smile by a big Scandinavian bear at breakfast
These are nice things to experience when sitting alone.

I am very mindful that a year ago, I was in Sitges but in a very different frame of mind.
It was a hard slog of a holiday where I was trying so hard to keep the grief of a broken relationship
under some sort of control and just walking around a place I knew so well as a couple was painfully melancholic .

Now I feel lighter.
Not whole again ( that will come when I start work and sort out the logistics of sorting a home out)
But certainly lighter.
It's been a tough year.
A crappy job, George and William, ill health, financial shocks, an emotional jacuzzi the size of one of Elton John's. strops , all have battered me down just as I pulled up one bra strap after another but with friends, family, bloggers, a touch of my grandmother's fortitude and a sense of humour which has slowly returned to its sarcastic best,
I do feel hopeful
Hopeful that the shit is, for the most part behind me

I am thinking all this as I sit in Church
Do gays have a patron Saint?
I wonder....anyhow I can hear the screams of the swifts as they circle us overhead and I remembered what I wrote about them last year when I visited

" ......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."

I still like the analogy

Home

The green crocs have arrived
Within 3 minutes all is relaxation

Shedding

Apparently there is a "new" phenomenon around called shedding
This is where someone sees something that needs doing in their community and, well, just does it!
This sort of thing has been going on for years.....indeed village elder Islwyn, some ten years ago now , took it on himself to refashion, organise and upgrade the entirety of the new graveyard....a Herculean task in itself, and one he completed more or less single handed and in all weather.

Today, I had the nicer part of Shedding, as the weather is fine and the breeze on the village green just right in offsetting the humidity, I got stuck in with clearing weeds from the lavender path.
I noted a while ago that Bridget, (who runs the youth club ) had been planting out pots and borders on the green herself and as the weeds over the lavender had seriously got on my tits, I invested a hour to do something about them.
Not that I got much done.
Islwyn turned up with more stories in him than four editions of Aesop's fables, and Jason, bored with his sore hand came over for a chat .
I told him I would photograph him looking glum but he moved over to the benches so I could photograph him looking heroically into the middle distance.

That Fat Bastard!

In Wales we have an excellent " GP Out Of Hours " facility.
When your own doctor 's surgery is closed then your ring the number, get triaged by a nurse advisor and if appropriate given an appointment with an out-of-hours GP based at the local A&E
I rang the system at 7pm. Was given an appointment at 8pm . I was seen at 8.01 and was home with my antibiotics by 8.20
I know I am a good historian . I had already tested my urine and knew I had the start of an infection.
I also told the doctor what antibiotic suited me best.
But still the service is a good one.
The only down side is the fact that the out-of-hours waiting room is shared with the minor injury department of A&E .
Tonight the average waiting time for that department is a whopping 7 hours!
I sat down in that shared waiting room for not even a minute until I was called in to see the doctor.
and it was too much for one poor soul who slapped his thigh in frustration
" Fucking hell that fat bastard has only just come in and he's been seen straight away!!!!!! "

Ps. Speaking of health Jason is now home and hopefully improving.
I saw him today . He was greatly moved by his global best wishes

The Tea Caddy

I have worked shifts every holiday I have been given since the autumn and by doing so have paid for a short holiday outright. Every month I have squirrelled away some cash into the plain Regency tea caddy which sits on the mantle and today I will swap that cash for Euros, my spending money.
For the very first time in many years I am not delving into overdraft or credit card to pay for something of note!
I can only afford five days abroad, but that will be more than enough as I am returning to Sitges in Spain, a place I know and love and feel instantly comfortable with.
My Next holiday will be somewhere new, somewhere more challenging
This holiday its the comfort of what is known.
I go on Thursday!
and I am so looking forward to be able to sit quietly, with my eyes closed and my mind uncluttered, feeling the Mediterranean Sun on my face.

Bad Dog

The attack was photographed

It's a testament to any small community when news gets around like wildfire.
This is , of course, helped by social media , and in Trelawnyd's case, it's own on line discussion board.
Towards the later evening of the carnival the affable Despot Jason was Savaged by a dog which was on one of those extendable leads.
The dog meant business and several small children were in the potential line of fire.
It was " lucky" therefore that Jason bore the brunt of the attack.
The injury to his hand is a serious one, I've seen it so I know And he's presently in England awaiting skin grafts.
The police have been involved.
Jason and his family are popular in the village.
You don't often know just how much until something happens like this
Going Gently and everyone here, sends their love and best wishes

Pride month 🌈

Pride Month is coming to an end with all of the panache of a quality drag queen with too much sass
I am sorry to have never attended a Pride march as yet
Next year will be my year.
I don't really blog about what it is like to be gay.
I just am gay…….the fact is incidental and probably the least interesting thing about me

Am I proud to be gay?
hummmmmmm…….I am proud of being associated with all those men and woman that battled for equal rights at the 1969 Stonewall Riots.
I am proud to be living in a country that is enlightened enough to pass a law stating gay men and women can marry legally
and I am proud enough, tough enough and ugly enough to be able to hold my head up high and say I am a gay man in company that may not accept the fact with alacrity

Having said this, apart from some low level homophobic remarks thrown out by two Neanderthal British Gas workers at a Christmas do many years ago, I have never really been on the receiving end of any bigoted behaviour.
This fact, I know, is a rarity.

Once many years ago now I found out that I was subject to some gossip at work where the staff of an adjacent ward were over heard discussing my "sexual" life by a patient. The patient, as it turned out was a bit of a psychopath and promptly wheeled his wheelchair to my office in order to "taunt me" with the information he had just heard.
Buoyed up with indignation and supported by my sister's uniform I cornered all of the staff as they were giving handover and asked them to their faces if there was anything they wanted to know about me.
Of course heads were hung and denials given but the following warning shot of the prospect of official disciplinary action had its effect.
No one ever troubled me again where the subject of my sexuality was concerned.

I will leave you with the story of my very first meeting with Auntie Gladys.
She was in her mid eighties back then and was selling her Flower Show raffle tickets around the village and its surrounds.
The Jungle telegraph had alerted to most that there was a new Gay couple in the village

I bought a strip off her
" Does your friend want any tickets too?" she asked , her eyes twinkling and I was half amused by the term "friend" a word which was often bandied around by people too shy or too uncomfortable to call a spade a spade
Only Gladys was not uncomfortable, she was just searching for the right word to use
"He is my partner and not a friend and yes he will have some tickets from you" I told her kindly
Gladys laughed
"I was going to call him your boyfriend " she said "but you are both far too old to be called that!!!"

At 96, on the day of our marriage, the old girl walked all the way down from her house on High Street to present me with a wedding gift over the kitchen wall and when I remarked that I never thought I would see the day that two men would be allowed to Marry each other
she clapped her frail hands together and laughed her musical Welsh laugh
"How marvellous" she cried

yes....how bloody marvellous!