Fluff Under The Bed

 

One of the fund raising ideas for the village hall is an indoor table top sale.
They always seem popular, especially in these days of austerity .
So today I am addressing the wasteland which is the area under my bed.
Boxes and bin liners full of shit.
A few years ago, I cleared most of the decks at the cottage but lots of stuff was squirrelled away under the bed and out of sight. 
Now that shite may make me a bit of money
So today is the day.
I’ve been ruthless 
40% boxed ready for the sale, 5 % recycled, 5% kept 50% chucked 
The chucked items are thrown into the front garden 
What fun

When All Is Said And Done

 


3000 ABBA fans in one purpose built, eco friendly stadium all intent on a good time.
What’s not to love.
We had a late lunch/ Early supper at Dishoom, then caught the central line to Stafford then the DLR to the Olympic park. 
We had a bottle of wine before the concert.
And it was a concert. A large band, backing singers and light show par excellence supported the ABBA holograms just as they would have done to four “real” artists, so from the get go the audience was transported to the ABBA of yesteryear.



It was all rather magical and at times strangely moving, especially as each of the band in close up hologram form addressed the crowds with an aside or anecdote in their 70 something older voices.and when they cranked up a gear, complimented by some very expensive and lovely light effects,  the whole area erupted into one big best friend meeting hug.


My favourite part, well apart from watching Janet becoming her 11 year old self again, was listening to Anni-fred sing the most melancholy of ABBA songs When All Is Said And Done proving even a hologram can be emotional 





ABBA

 


Train cancelled but everything on track

Just Keep Swimming




 I have several nice pieces of art now
Eclectic pieces. 
Some Welsh from Welsh artists.
Others from all around the world.
This is the one I would save first.
It’s not my Josiah Clinton Jones watercolour
Nor is it my lovely Sea Pinks by Fiona Carver or Irene Goodier” Off the beaten track” the study of an autumn wood in acrylics. 
It is a simple homemade card from a blogger , of a goldfish
Hand painted and personalised 
With the words 
John, Just Keep Swimming 
This simple little painting has got me through many dark days indeed

Transference

 In view of Albert’s psycho melt down last night I took Roger to today’s Trelawnyd Community Association meeting in the Hall. 
He was good as gold and watched all the proceedings carefully from my lap, his front feet wrapped around my thumb, like a baby.
Having said that, I’ve just watched an interesting case of physical transference as, after Albert had stalked through the house like The LionKing’s Mustafa, Roger, in a fit of teenage temper broke the cat flap window

I have nothing else planned today. 
Chic Eleanor messaged me about the tulips, 
I’m on night’s tonight doing the shift for a friend





Angst


Just before nine Albert caught Roger standing on the kitchen table eating his dinner out of his bowl 
The resulting fight has gone down in Trelawnyd History
Suffice to say that  Albert is now sat in front of the fire licking his banjo and
Roger is somewhere under the bed in the spare room 

 

Tulips and beards and nurses





 I went out to lunch with my sister in law today. Tonight I’d planned to meet Chic Eleanor for supper. 
Lots of foody things today. 
Eleanor messaged me that she couldn’t come as her mother was poorly…very poorly as it turned out and I’ve just dropped some cheerful tulips off at her house on the other side of the village.
Her house was deserted, it’s going to be a tough 24 hours for her.

I’m scruffy as I’ve grown a full beard, a friend in the village who I haven’t seen in a long time commented on it today.
He called me a hipster.
I told him I’m too old 

I will have to make a decision to temper it soon 
I’ve had a beard most of my adult life, but never one as unruly 

In the supermarket I overheard two women complaining about the nurses’ strike.
They said nurses were putting people at risk now, and that they shouldn’t complain 

Now it starts , I said to myself.
And I wish everyone would watch this American medical soap’s nurse speech 
It sort of captures some of the essence that I think a lot of nurses feel





And My Dick’s a kipper



 I went to see Enys Men this morning. Apparently Enys is the old Cornish word for Island which is interesting as the Welsh word for Island is Ynys. 
Anyhow Enys Men was advertised as a horror film set on a1973 Cornish Island. 
I see that the word horror was used somewhat loosely.

It’s an experimental, abstract film where the mundane daily routine of a wildlife volunteer almost morphs into the history, tragedy and nature of an old Cornish mining island. Set in 1973 we follow the naturalist’s daily routine until no one really knows their arses from their elbows, so atmospheric as it was , I lost the will to live by minute 45, so walked out even though I was sure that the leading lady’s red anorak had something to do with the killer dwarf in Dont Look Now ( filmed in 1973)
Subsequently I found out that Mark Kamode gave it 5 stars .
Fuck me that must have been a slow day for him.


One of the Storyhouse volunteers fussed around me with hand twitching when he saw me walk out.
“ Everything all right?” he twittered
It’s not very good “ I told him 
He made the mistake of arguing.
As a horror film it’s got a lot excellent reviews” he countered 
if this was a horror film, then my Dick’s a kipper” I told him.
It’s a favourite saying of mine, and did what it was meant to do 
It underlined a point. 

It was still lunchtime when I left the cinema so I went to the Thai and Thai food stall in Chester Market and ordered their chicken pad Thai , which is glorious. 
I like the new dining area in the market as it consists of long tables  which have to be shared.

Sirikorn Jones who runs Thai On Thai



I picked up my food as a take out and literally bumped into Faisal from book club who was waiting for some Bangladeshi food from Guroma.
He shook my hand formally as he did when we met at book club and we had a drink together before and after our beepers went off, signalling that our food was ready .
He’s a nice chap, very chatty.





On The Nature Of Daylight

 Roger found a packet of panini in the footwell of the car. It had fallen out of the shopping bag unnoticed and the resulting hysteria from Dorothy who shouldered her way out of her cage in the back seat like a fat faced drug raiding policeman in order to grab one out of Mary’s mouth would have  caused a car wreck if we weren’t stuck in the workman’s traffic lights just outside the village.

The bickering over the crumbs lasted at least 25 minutes so I had a headache brewing when I finally got to the dentists in Llandudno.

After my appointment we all had a walk along the Promenade to blow away the cobwebs and I turned listening to Spotify on my phone as the waves flung spray horizontally into our faces. 


We sat down in a beach shelter as Max Richter’s On The Nature Of Daylight was playing. 
It’s a deeply melancholy and rather beautiful piece of music 
And as I listened the dogs crammed in closer, on either side of me in an effort to keep warm.
The pressure of each body just noticeable in three places
And the moment just broke my heart a little……

Living Room Office

 Good evening in college, very productive .
Lots of work done 
Came home and am happy at me moving my desk into the living room earlier.
It looks cool


Rather wintery outside 

Editing History and a Zombie Gay fairytale


 All of us rewrite history 

Ask my ex mother in law that one, she was a friggin expert on the subject..anyway
Yesterday I went to see The Fabelmans which has been hailed as Spielberg’s oh so personal homage to cinema and his upbringing.
I enjoyed it , with reservations 
The reservations came from Spielberg’s need to re-edit and if not re write, reshoot those vital and cinematic moments that punctuate all of our lives when growing up.
As a small child we see Sam ( Steve) recreate the famous train crash from The Greatest Show On Earth as we are introduced to his Elf like mother Mitzi ( Michelle Williams) a former concert pianist who still protects her hands by not washing up a dish, and who chases a tornado with her children in the car. 
She is this ethereal character who despite being incredibly selfish, and at times depressed is shown, in a rather affectionate spotlight and centre stage. Sam’s father (Paul Dano) is benign and sweet as the man who finally accepts that his best friend Uncle Benny ( a restrained Seth Rogen) is the true love of Mitzi’s life.
It is clear that Spielberg’s childhood was unconventional to say the least, so it would be forgivable for the audience to accept how his love of cinema helped rewrite and certainly re-edit reality .

Labelle ( right)


The trouble with the whole film is that certain parts are simply not true. I listened to Lauren Lavern’s detailed interview with Spielberg on Desert Island Discs last year, where Spielberg admitted that he didn’t speak to his father for many years, a fact not even eluded to in the movie.
When a film makes the point of re-editing reality, does not the final version feel all a bit sanitised ? 
Perhaps that is what Spielberg was wanting to get across? 
It’s overlong by 30 minutes too 🥲
Having said all this Gabriel Labelle gave a gentle and intelligent performance as the 16 year old Spielberg  and Michele Williams was incredibly moving and restrained as the rather lost Mitzi.

Bill and Frank in The Last Of Us


The Last Of Us is now on episode three on Sky Atlantic 
This is a big budget, rather sprawling re working of a popular video game set in the zombie apocalypse where the undead sport feather like growths on their faces and where Joel ( Pedro Pascal) has to protect teenage Ellie ( Bella Ramsey) who is immune to the infection and who may be humanity’s only salvation .
It’s a bleak watch to be sure and until episode 3 ( shown last night) I wasn’t really happy with how things were going.
Last night the tables turned and we were introduced to two new characters Bill and Frank.( Nick Offerman and Murray Bartlet) 
Bill, is a survivalist, the only character to remain in his tiny town of just a few streets. He had amassed a stockpile of weapons, gasoline, food and know how to fortify his home but after years of solitude is lonely as he enjoys the finer things in life which he can’t share. In one of his traps he captures the middle aged, garrulous Frank, the only survivor from a group from the city and suddenly the bleak zombie drama takes a severe right hand turn into a gentle and thoughtful character study about the love affair between two middle aged men.
It was quite, quite charming and wonderfully played by both actors who really made you believe that such an unlikely pair could make a go of things.
Wonderful and incredibly moving television 




Laughter

 “ He has been with me for all of my life, so far, I’ve had no one as loyal or as long-standing in my life “ 

So did a patient describe her brother to me the other day. 
It was a quote that lingered in my mind like a YouTube song 
And is one that has a resonance for I got the quote as soon as it left the patient’s mouth.

I’ve mentioned it here on Going Gently a few times, that my childhood wasn’t a particularly happy one. Like many sixties and seventies kids , we were a product of our age…..emotionally absent parents but well looked after children, we had siblings and grandparents to nurture us, so we were the lucky ones.
But inside our own four walls things were often somewhat sad.

My patient shared a memory of her brother with me and told me of it’s significance. And over sixty years I  thought of what one memory I could share that summed up my sisters’ and me.
I found one easily,  perched happily in a cerebral cul de sac of childhood memories in 1972 or there abouts. Janet and I were around 10.
My sister Ann’s house  One Saturday afternoon 
I think we were making Christmas cards 
Ann was singing badly. Singing the theme tune to a popular children’s magazine show at the time
And all I remember was laughter
Pure, unchecked, silly, belly laugh, laughter


Pottering


My sister has been working in the garden and on the patio this morning. We’ve chatted in between jobs.
It’s nice to have someone around the cottage.
The sound of someone else pottering has been somewhat comforting.
Roger has adored the new company and has galloped good heartedly when the leaf blower was unleashed.
He’s watched Janet carefully, enjoying the novelty of a fresh face.
He hugged her before she left, as Welsh Terriers do

Eirlys called round with some free range eggs. You may remember I took her a beef stew the other day.
Not one for sentiment she told me that there was a letter for me in the egg box, thanking me for the thought. She held my eyes for a second longer than usual which was her way of hugging me.
I nodded that I understood.
She would have done the same for me.

I’m working tonight and tomorrow. I’m going to see Spielberg’s The Fabelmans on Monday afternoon. I’d planned to see it today but it’s a long film and needs a clear afternoon.
Spielberg’s upbringing was interesting and his family dynamic complicated.
I suspect the film was his therapy in a way……

I will leave you with this little ballet video…..enjoy your Saturday 




  

Quiet Time

 Sometimes it’s nice to be away from the dogs.
Life is like a permanent kindergarten visit when they are always about.
Constant neediness, noise, motion and squabbles.
And of course, those are the very reasons I have them,
But just occasionally they can be exhausting and occasionally you have the need for silence 
Total silence without burbs, farts, itches and barks.

And I went to sit in the churchyard for a while
Where it was cold and quiet with only the chirp of hedge sparrows for company.
I wrote this blog in my head as I sat there. 
I’m having a grown up day today, which means that I’m going out to dinner with my friend Colin. 
It was his birthday a few days ago and he was fed up  at being alone on a work night, so I’m taking him out to dinner in Chester and will wear something ironed.

For the past few weeks have been exploring the knotty subject of self awareness in college and have been using the concept of the Johari Window in the look at self which is an interesting  if not a bit clumsy psychological  romp in itself. It’s always interesting to see yourself as others see you, especially when there is a real  I see moment to be had.
I’m not good in asking for things I want off people 
It’s a fear of rejection that takes precedence 
But I’m getting better at it
We are all a work in progress 


A Snooze in the Afternoon


This is the simple jug I bought from Sainsbury’s yesterday . It’s robust and pleasing and suits the daffodils which I’ve now filled it. Tulips will look good in it too. 
I took the dogs to Colwyn Bay Promenade first thing and bought daffodils from a little florist in the town before meeting a friend for brunch. 
I think brunch is the go to eating event popular with people now. I love it much more that a late dinner out , not that I’m invited out late much anymore . 
I popped in Eirlys’ beef casserole, wrote up some college notes and that’s it for the day.
A recent blood test showed I’m a bit anaemic so a crafty little snooze-Ette  is the order of the late afternoon 
It’s cool , but I cover me and the dogs in a throw and soon all of us will be asleep on the trendy couch .
Organic hot water bottles for each other
I will light the fire later.
Ps fire roaring , curried fish soup for supper, 2 hour chat with friend Nige on the phone 
Now settling down to watch crap tv


Food

 In my book and in my family Food can often be a metaphor for affection
I’m meeting my friend Colin on Friday and he’s a been a bit low as of late. 
We are going out for supper.
Today I cooked a huge beef stew thickened with left over mash potato.
I left it cooking on low for hours, so tonight the meat fell apart as it should for the best comfort food.
I’ve plated a bowl up and wrapped it in foil . 
I will take it around to Eirlys tomorrow morning. I can’t believe it’s been eight weeks since her husbands funeral. Food is always a good gift when grief is involved .

I skimmed a small bowl of gravy from the casserole and let it cool on the garden wall  before taking it up to Albert who has been under the weather today .

He finished the lot 

I was going out to a forensic talk on serial killers in llandudno tonight but couldn’t justify the 30 quid ticket cost ! Having said that I bought a pair of wellies and a reduced priced jug from Sainsbury’s this afternoon. 
The jug is perfect for daffodils 

Radio

 


Last night, as I was driving home after college I listened to a little gem of a radio programme on radio 4

Set in a northern city school File On Four learning to survive , was a gentle, but honest look of how an inner city school deals with a population ravaged by the financial crisis .
One sequence, had me geared up at Bluebell’s wheel 
It was the moment the school organised a “day in pyjamas” 
The children and staff all turned up in nightware, which was not just a bit of fun , but a crafty way for the senior teacher to see which children needed a proper fitting set of pyjamas later in the year.
Of course we provide the new Pj’s “ she added “;but only after they won them in a raffle” 
And it was that lie that really broke my heart just a little.
What a wonderful head teacher
What a fantastic bit of documentary radio and
What a lesson learned 

He Used To Be Mine -






Planting Out

 


I took the iris and lilies my sister donated to the TCA down to the pond this morning and submerged them in a space I found beyond the little jetty. 
I checked with Nick who was one of the TCA that spearheaded the pond if I had done ok then came back home to shower all of the dogs, all of whom had acquired a real doggy pong.
Not surprisingly it was taking a neighbour to Dyserth for a doctor appointment that sealed their showers, the neighbour opened the passenger door window and poked a nose through when they thought I wasn’t looking.
I’ve been washing bedding and throws all morning.
Tuesdays , I’m in college 6pm until 9 but will get the library early to catch up on my workbooks and journal.
I’m tired, as my rhythms  are all out after nights