Last Night In Soho, Maryland and Albert Snogs Dorothy

 

Polanski’s Repulsion 

It’s been a corn beef hash of a day today

A right mixture.

This evening I’ve not felt 100% ( my bladder is playing up)  so Ive missed choir and rescheduled a badminton game with Gorgeous  Dave until Monday.

Don’t worry, it’s not covid, I got my negative PCR test result back early this morning.

Soon after that I took myself to the cinema then to the theatre to see a short rehearsed read through . The cinema ticket was complementary . The theatre ticket was free.

Before I went out, I popped to Old Trefor next door to change his recent minor surgery dressings. He rang up last night asking for some help. I’ve told him I’ll pop in each day to change them.

The film I went to see was described as a psychological horror movie. Last Night In Soho , as it turned out was really a sort of remake of Roman Polanski’s 1965 study chronicling the decent into a psychotic illness of a shy Belgian woman living in 1960s London.

The Polanski film was a chilling and truly terrifying piece….stark and almost documentary in its style, whereas the Edgar Wright film is a vibrant, loud evocative mixture of 1960s music, Hollywood slasher movie and indie drama with an excellent performance by the lead Thomasin McKensie as a mentally fragile fashion student who becomes obsessed with dreams and visions of a 1960 cabaret starlet (Anya Taylor Joy) who apparently was stabbed by an abusive pimp in the bed sit bedroom they both shared albeit it fifty years apart.

Wright’s movie uses the ambiguity of mental illness versus psychic visionary to its hilt and uses clever cinematography and vibrant colour to reenact a  Soho 1965 rather impressively 

I’m not a lover of horror films , but this one has some style,and class and I loved the fact that Wright featured three 1960s icons in the supportive roles, namely Rita Tushinghan, Terrence Stamp and the glorious Diana Rigg in what was her final film.

After this I went to Theatre Clwyd watch the rehearsed read through  of the controversial Maryland by Lucy Kirkwood which had recently caused such a stir at the Royal Court In London.

This is an extraordinary piece of writing and theatre , written quickly and in anger beyond anything any man can truly understand

Maryland features the meeting of two women who have been sexually assaulted and watching this 30 minute essay piece of theatre provoked and upset me more than anything I have ever watched in the cinema in a while

The theatre asked all patrons send a donation to https://rapecrisis.org.uk/ in Lieu of a ticket charge

Watching Bake off now with a gin and paracetamol 

Love Noel’s description of Lizzie

“Princess Leia dressed as a children's bullfighter“

T Shirt

I’ve bought some T shirts that are not Walking Dead T shirts

 

Auntie Betty’s Bosoms

 I got my redundant PCR test very early this morning and came home to make guacamole, spiced sweet potato soup and sourdough bread.

I also popped to Lidl where I bought a set of acrylic paints and an electric pepper grinder ( like you do) and I then watched the end of the 1957 epic The Pride And The Passion on the couch where I fell asleep and dreamt of Auntie Betty’s incredible bosoms 

The first bosoms I ever saw up close and personal.

Now I have to share here, that I always think of Auntie Betty when I see Sophia Loren in her hey day .

Not that Betty looked anything like Ms Loren, she didn’t, She was a tall Jewish matron, with a deep rasping laugh that sounded as though she chain smoked Cuban cigars for years and I’m sure she didn’t have one Italian bone in her body but to me as a very small boy, she was an exotic, sexual,  incredibly loud larger-than-life character who once, when very drunk, got stuck up a child’s slide with her cleavage rammed full of melting Dairy Milk chocolate buttons. 

Now, explaining just how and why Aunty Betty got stuck up the slide in the first place would take too long to explain, especially as I don’t really remember just how the whole packet of buttons became wedged between the most phenomenal pair of boobs ,which were pushed up and out like two pale chocolate covered melons by the constraints of a 1970 sheath dress hiked up by two metal slide handles.

It was quite a sight for any small boy to juggle with to be sure , let alone one of confused sexuality, but not only did I recognise the sexuality of the situation but also of the bizarre humour of it all and I remember clearly  collapsing into tearful laughter as Betty bellowed at her predicament and the rather all too eager men at the house party tried to carefully prise her free 

Bad & Good News

 Bloody hell! I was pinged by Track and Trace this afternoon ?..

Seeing that I’ve had my jabs ( though not long after my booster) I don’t have to social isolate but the call line operator told me I shouldn’t go to the theatre tonight. Tomorrow I need a test.

Bloody irritating

I’ve deleted the app

That’s the bad news

The good news is more delightful 

The lovely Hattie messaged me today. 

A couple of days ago she had her baby, a beautiful bouncing and rather late baby girl called Freya Mary 

Mum, Dad and baby are all doing well

Hattie and her lockdown baby, My Mary

Then her Freya Mary

Pumpkin

 Sunday mornings, I have found,  can be the most Lonely part of the week. 

Luckily, when I’m not rostered to work,  I have got into the habit of buying a quality newspaper and treating myself to a proper breakfast and bucket of coffee at y shed, where I can pretend I’m in a trendy corner of Manhattan 

For the sake of my sanity, the dogs are now always left in Bluebell , especially as only last week Dorothy rubbed her arse too excitedly against the table leg and upset my illy coffee over the floor .

I’ve just carved my pumpkin ready for its candles but won’t be home later as I’m off to the theatre with friends tonight. 

At least Covid has put pay to trick and treating

Hallows Eve

Albert loves Halloween 

 

Goats on The Orme

 The sky above the hospice is an azure blue and on my break , I wandered outside in order to watch a large group of the wild goats grazing on the Orme. 

The day is well organised and in order and all is well with the world again

No Time To Die ( a few spoilers)

I took my sister Janet to the cinema tonight, it was her first time back to the cinema for two years! 

Nice to have some sister time

 

The last Daniel Craig Bond No Time To Die, has everything but the kitchen sink thrown at it. Craig’s swan song has homages, visual, spoken and musical , from all of the Bond movies, but especially from the least favourite but most romantic of the series, the one with George Lazenby, whose title I have strangely forgotten and it works well, even though it’s a little too long .

I like Craig in it, who had a chance to act as well as shoot his cuffs, and gurn his lips

I love the playful way that the replacement 007 was a black woman and not Iris Elber

I liked the sassy Lashana Lynch as the “new” 007 ( in this movie Bond has retired)and I liked the script which you could just tell had the bite of Phoebe Waller Bridge flowing all through it

Paloma Bond Girl

I also liked Ana deArmas who almost stole the show as a ditzy but rather capable Cuban Bond girl called Paloma

Big, showy, overly talky ,and too love story ish,  it isn’t the best Bond, but it’s a suiting tribute to the Craig Years in the role which made Ben Whishaw, Naomi Harris, Jeffrey Wright and Judi Dench such wonderful parts of the franchise.

The very sexy Jeffrey Wright as Felix

A Meatball under the freezer

The heavens opened this morning on North Wales and the many dog walkers on the Dyserth/ Meliden walkway were found sheltering in small polite groups under the old railway bridges that intersect it at regular intervals. 

The rain was torrential.

And rather threatening.

Dorothy loves walking, so ignores the weather. 

Mary hates wet conditions so shivering pitiably, refused to walk a step further.

We hurried  home and Dorothy only stopped sulking that her walk was cut short after she found a errant Swedish meatball under the fridge freezer

Off to see James Bond later

This afternoon I’m lagging the thermal store tank

I’m one crazy bitch

 

Salt n’ Pepper

This pair of condiments were delivered today

when I was at work 

No note 

No clue who from

Made me smile

I’m tired

 

May we Come In?…….Dune & Choir

 Dune was an unexpected gem yesterday.

Usually I’m not a syfy fan, but this incredibly authentic, almost medieval romp is a feast for the senses as everything about it impressive and incredibly entertaining.

Rebecca Ferguson

Jason Momoa

The lovely Oscar Isaac

The casting of sexy, hirsute  DILFs in the supporting roles was ( for me) a stroke of genius as I loved Oscar Isaac, jason Momoa, Josh Brolin and Javier Bardem just to look at, but they and the likes of Rebecca Ferguson, Charlotte Rampling and Zendaya gave the whole film a gravitas already outlined by the quality cinematography and beautiful design.

Timothée Chalamet ( not an actor I’ve rated before ) has incredible presence and charisma in the lead

role and although, sometimes I didn’t quite know who was who, I loved this romp with its old fashioned adventure feel.

After the movie, I just had time to walk the dogs before I went out again 

This time to choir, which has returned to Tuesday nights in my world.

I last sang indoors just before the first lockdown and it was lovely to be back

We sang a new song called This Winter

I shed a small tear behind my mask as we “got” the harmonies

It was like coming home 

Juggling Act

 

“ You are always doing things” 

This is a common remark I have received on line and in person and it is a comment that is occasionally caveated with the borderline and vaguely unpleasant thought or question of…

“How can you afford it?”

I run a car and a home on a budget. 

True I have a pension , but I still have to work full time in a job which pays much less than rates in the NHS to keep my head above water.

Out of the blue, bills have to be carefully managed.

Nearly a year ago my affable chimney sweep declared my chimney unsafe. The liner had tarred up due to me burning dodgy wood which was originally advertised as being kiln dried and now needs replacing. 

The bill will be around a thousand pounds and it has taken me ten months of saving to get that amount put aside in readiness for winter. 

Today I booked the heating engineer to review it.

That was satisfying ! 

Thank goodness Bluebell passed her recent MOT without needing any expensive tinkering but I have put aside money for her service next month. Without her I am scuppered.

The dogs are insured and their healthcare is guaranteed, but I still have to pay a chunk of their treatment costs. It took me 9 months to pay off George’s vet bills that I incurred before his death. Sadly he was not insured as the others were.

But you are always going to the theatre and London ? 

I’ve been accused of being frivolous before. 

But I am careful. I book single named journeys by rail which are always off peak and always in advance which saves me money and generally I book the cheap seats at a theatre or a bargain room in a hotel, something covid has helped me with over the last year.

My two tickets to the Royal Ballet next year were 40 £…how good was that?

But I do put my hands up…guilty as charged, when it comes to nice things for home. I bought that bowl yesterday on a whim and the art wall in the kitchen wasn’t all cheap but I live with a grotty bathroom, watch a child sized television and only own one really nice pair of shoes and one natty jacket which is accessorised by one dark pair of pants and one light….covering me now for most occasions .

Weddings, Bar Mitzvah’s and funerals.

I still buy fresh flowers every week and I pay for my sister to do my garden and so I’m not pretending I’m Bob Cratchit just yet 

But I’ve very aware that when I’m let down by a broken cinema screen and have to pay petrol to drive all the way there and back, I get annoyed I have wasted money

it’s just like with everyone else in this expensive world …..paying to live, and not just to exist ,remains a bit of a juggling act.

Especially when you are single 

Pottery

 I had planned to go to the cinema today for a retry at watching The Last Duel 

I was pissed off because no where is now showing it.

I returned to the pottery studio instead.

It was my first time back and it will be nice to get to plan and construct my ceramic chess set again.

I bought this vase / bowl too.

I liked it’s robust proportions

Liverpool

I first met Nu way back in 1989 and for much of the early 1990s I socialised with her three physiotherapist friends in Sheffield and in Liverpool. 

Tonight I was reunited with all three, Dymphna, Gráinne and Hillary as well as Hillary’s husband Brian and Nu’s Hubby Jim. over in Liverpool and 27 years after we first met nothing very much had changed at all.

True , we all agreed , that most of us were now wearing non prescription reading glasses and all of us possessed more wrinkles  than we cared for having but the banter was as loud as it ever was.

And the laughter was as raucous as it was in the ledmill circa 1991 where the girls referred to me with the bizarre and unlikely  nickname of cheese n’ chives and I felt joyfully tearful when they yelled it at me again when I left them all, very squiffy in a lovely crowded Italian restaurant on Bold Street

Gráinne and Brian

Dymphna and The gloriously loud Hillary

I’m going to meet them all next year at Nuala and Jim’s cottage in Southern Ireland , I’ve decided to rent a small camper van and drive from Trelawnyd , over the ferry to Dún Laoghaire …it will be my second holiday in 2022….in September I will be going Seoul

Antigone

 The good thing about Gorgeous Dave is that he is up for most things socially and like me is keen to experience theatre which is out of his normal “ comfort box” .

Last night it was his turn to choose a venue and so he bought tickets to the Greek tragedy Antigone followed by an eclectic performance by a mixed group of deaf stand up artists described as A Night Of Sign.

All this was based at Chester’s Storyhouse theatre.

Initially I thought it was all going to be a bit of a slog, as the ancient Greeks were all a bit serious what with Oedipus shagging his mother Jocaster and the like but director Natasha Rickman with the writer Hollie McNish have forged a new telling of a story with deaf actors as the two leads and with British sign language and written captions enhancing the script and plot.

I didn’t know the story of Antigone and essentially it is a simple one. Antigone ‘s brothers, both kings of Thebes died fighting over their title . Their corrupt uncle Kreon becomes ruler and vilifies one brother over the other, refusing to let his body be buried and the story takes an interesting turn when the young princess Antigone stands up to the misogynistic king and defies him

The profoundly deaf actress Fatima Neimogha is stunning as Antigone .She not only acts through what is essentially a tough part but lives it with sign language and words complementing her words wonderfully.

   Unfortunately some aspects of the play didn’t work as well. The young, presumably student amateur actors in the supporting roles were wooden and awkward compared to the leads and the occasional use of 1980s pop songs intended to support and lighten the piece was a mistake.

But overall I enjoyed it.

The play was followed by an in house stand up performance by a selection of deaf performers which took place in the foyer barb of the Storyhouse. Deaf,comics, poetry performers, dancers and a rap artist took to the stage with the rapper Chris Fonseca(pictured) being a stand out (and I never thought I’d ever say that )

The whole evening sparked ( as it was intended to do) much discussion and debate on the car journey back, and it was almost midnight when I got home! 

This morning I’ve got off. I had rostered myself for an overtime shift to cover sickness but another nurse who lives a stones throw from the hospice volunteered  to cover saving me the long commute.

It’s breezy and colder today and I’m donning my pretentiously expensive  North Face jacket and woolly hat to take the dogs out.

It’s Liverpool later…..

It’s all go 

For Big Gay Rob

Home

 I want to be at home today

I am going to clean , and sort and wash and dust and tidy and control

Tonight I’m going to the theatre with Gorgeous Dave, then on to a comedy gig

But today I will regroup behind the thick cottage walls.

But not until I have a long read of Empire magazine, drink freshly brewed almond coffee and eat avocados drizzled with lemon and pepper on sourbread toast  with dry fried eggs……

Overtime

 

Covid cases seem on the rise in North Wales despite the face coverings

I’ve spent the last couple of hours at work firefighting staff shortages, most of them due to the virus

After much cajoling and some begging I managed to cover most of the gaps but still came home with a headache and very sore feet , which now smell of pedigree chum after Dorothy got let loose with them seconds after eating her supper.

I’m doing a half day overtime on Sunday morning  to help but I’m meeting bestie  Nu and some friends for dinner in Liverpool on Sunday afternoon and won’t miss that for anything.

I need a gin

Nu and I a decade ago x

 

Sheffield’s Manor

 

When I was a student nurse I had a placement with the district nurses in The Manor which was the well recognised roughest part of Sheffield .

The nurse I accompanied , was a no nonsense city woman. She drove a second hand car, called a spade a fucking spade and swore at joyriders in the street with a broad Sheffield accent 

She also told me not to look so  fucking gormless on our many visits 

Keep your wits about you she warned you look soft

I must have looked geeky….and painfully bookish

But I found her funny and  warm and big boned and I so wanted to please her, so we got on

Like a boy does with his favourite teacher.

I remember accompanying her to visit a man in the top of a block of flats who had terminal cancer. 

The man’s elderly and frail wife greeted us at the door with the comment “ Hes been a bit quiet all morning love” and I didn’t really notice my colleague quietly donning gloves and looping her stethoscope around her neck

The patient had bled to death in bed

He had bled from his mouth from a cancer of the oesophagus and unseen by his wife the blood had pooled inside his bedclothes and bed frame . 

My mentor passed me gloves and an apron silently  and asked the wife to make us a cup of tea.

My eyes grew to the size of saucers…the blood soaked the carpet black , like a pond in winter.

This was my very first traumatic death and I went on automatic pilot 

But I learned so very much that awful day

I learned to be calm in a crisis 

I learned how to break bad news with sensitivity and honesty 

I learned how to spare people’s feelings with information they didn’t need and

I learned how important it was to cry in the car afterwards and be hugged by a co worker who knew more and better than I did.

Her name was Janet and she was a district nurse in Sheffield many moons ago now

And she died last week of cancer at home , with her family and friends and a dog called Daisy around her

Getting A Boost

 Booster  jab