Thin lips

 The chinks in the local pharmacy service have been evident, well they have to me over the past few weeks. My broad spectrum antibiotics have been out of stock prior to “ Rome” necessitating a search for appropriate pharmacies which may have it. Subsequently ( and there’s nothing like being in sync) my bladder is playing up as it has a want to do.

So much so I went to bed this afternoon with Dorothy, who lay against my back with her head on the pillow.

I got up at 16.46 and went to the pharmacy again. My drugs still hadn’t arrived .

I didn’t get irate at all. I just went very quiet, which threw the staff even more. 

The pharmacist will deliver the drugs himself a bit later which was sweet of him and I did say it wasn’t his job to do that and that I was grateful but I was perfecting my grandmother’s thin lip approach at the time. 

Her lips, when vexed could be reduced to absolutely nothing

Not even a line in folded cardboard.

I’ll make some frozen cranberry, ginger and yogurt shake later, though I suspect the sleep did me more good.

Last night on the way too The Crown I dropped my phone. It was found by one of the village schoolboys who recognised me from my ID card I keep with it, so he and his three sisters and his mum all tracked me down to the pub and presented me with it as I stood by the bar.

The kids were excited at the bearhunt so I gave them a 20£ reward to be shared out .it tickled me that the youngest, a girl of perhaps five , piped up very quickly That’s a fiver each !!!

At least they were honest.

The dogs have been smelling doggy, so we have all been in the shower with a bottle of baby shampoo

The pharmacist knocked just as we all got out so there was a flurry of barking and wet paws against the kitchen wall and me looking soaked in a t shirt and shorts 

“Sorry we were all in the shower” I explained and he nodded slowly as if to say “ of course you have”

At least I’ve had my antibiotics eventually today

Supper Out

 I dug out my new linen trousers and green shirt bought especially for Rome ( and never bloody worn) and had a shave and a good hair brush and met the twenty five or so members of the village TCA and volunteers at  The Crown for a meal. The food was lovely and the company chatty, and as the gin and tonics were downed we thought of more outlandish ideas for the association to support in addition to the following hall based activities. 

Between now and Christmas we have organised 

A Casino night 

A concert night by the Trelawnyd Male  Voice Choir 

An Apple Festival  day 

A Christmas Fayre 

And It’s a Wonderful Life Christmas film night as well as the usual Saturday coffee mornings 

Our Chairperson Bridget making her thank you speech

My suggestion of a ancient Welsh tomato festival where we villagers throw ripe tomatoes at each other in the street after copious amounts of Cymraeg gin is drunk was met with mixed but chuckling  results 

Masks

 I always found the slightly sanitised Russell Brand vaguely amusing. His overly pompous way of challenging pomposity tickled me in its irony and could see why the BBC Thought he was a little bit of a darling and a trendy challenge to they grey suits and grey hairs that fill the organisation . 

But then we didn’t then see his stand up. A stand up that revealed his leopard spots, his crude way of viewing some women and his misogyny. 

Glinting eyes and a persona reminiscent of a cartoon wolf he underlined in the most crudest of ways what he thought of rough oral sex, and he lost me in that second, as I suspect he did of many of his audience members. 

He crossed the line and the level headed and fair BBC documentary Dispatches illustrated its point perfectly with that one vile clip that was shown. 

Masks, we all wear. 

They protect others from seeing the real us

They sanitize and provide a screen on which we project the more acceptable and socially polite self

But masks can slip 

Sometimes they do just for a second 

And when they do, I will always stick to my gut feeling , to that inner voice 

Which tells u

This person is poison 

Bake Off

 

It took me ages to sort out my Facebook avatar 

I played around it as I got used to the new Great British Bake Off Contestants 

As usual they are a lovely bunch of despots 

The Beaver Comment was worthy of Mel n Sue

Lockdown

 I was just downloading some information on ethics and counselling when the librarian hurried up behind me and hissed “ Go to your classroom now “ 

She had chivvied several students ahead of her and Donna whispered “ It’s a lockdown “ into my ear. 

We hurried into our classroom where the tutor closed the door and turned off the lights.

We were ushered into a corner of the room, away from prying eyes

Only then did we realised that it was a test. 

Sadly all colleges , schools and University campus’ now have to have this training. Not only from lone gunmen but also from knife assault 

I’ve just been looking at the stats

And they are worrying

That will do…….

 

I’ve added the same scene this evening, which looks nicer

Rearranging the furniture is always therapy 

The living room is now cosier with the sofa facing the log burner and the radiator now free to do it’s job.

I’m sorting through piles of stuff for university tomorrow 

That’s a big job in itself.

I almost bought a replica New York snow globe to replace the one broken by the dogs  and I actually found one on line but stopped short of buying it.

Do I really need another? I asked myself 

Nostalgia? Sentiment? A clinging onto the past all wrapped up in a romanticised New York scene, covered with snowy water

I dried the bits of the globe that remained , the plastic New York skyscrapers and the Statue of Liberty only millimetres high, and the squat little Brooklyn Bridge and I set them up to the paper Sagrada Familia on my desk. 

That will do, I said to myself That will do……………

Postscript

As we turned at the end of the lane

There it was 

A magnificent rainbow over Trelawnyd 

I stopped looking at it for an age , and Roger searched the sky to see what I was gazing at

He sat down to ponder

I’ve had shitty days 

Many over the last few years 

But there’s always a rainbow 

Waiting in the wings …..

In the shape of a friendly text, a jar of jam, a box of soup 

A kind word 

And a bunch of flowers

The real Rainbow was the icing on the cake

Sunday

 I’ve spent the day quietly. 

I made a late lunch of  salmon covered in dill yogurt with roasted new potatoes spiced with home made harissa.

I will treat myself to a McFlurry later, it only takes a few minutes to get one.

I’m in my pjs and have been all day.

I noticed that all of the 20 mph signs in the village have been defaced.

The village website is filled with keyboard warriors shouting the odds about it all.

 My twin sister called around with more flowers. Like my elder sister did yesterday, she also bought me some Italian food . A selection of antipasto! ( my family loves ironic humour) 

I had run out of vases so used my kimchi jar to house the sunflowers

The velvet voiced Linda left me some soup on the kitchen wall,which was kind and I’ve had many messages of commiseration  which is sweet, some of me feels I should feel sick

But of course I don’t 

Lywenna sent me some jam ,,perched by the front door.

I rearranged the living room furniture ( a favourite pastime of middle aged gay men), shampooed the carpet free of the contents of my beloved New York snow globe which had been broken when I was in London  😢 and have drunk several buckets of tea 

It’s blustery and feels like autumn 

I’m watching Ocean’s 11 

It’s a classy watch 

Bra straps

 Yesterday’s shenanigans have left me thoughtful and a little upset.     

Upset, because I was already nervous about travelling alone and this incident has unnerved me greatly and has zapped my confidence. Ok I know all of the platitudes, and at least it was in London and not Rome, but that’s not the point. 

I spoke to Nu and I feel better because of it. 

She forwent the platitudes and just listened.

Having an emergency alone isn’t very much fun

Thank you all for your comments ,

I’m grateful for your concern.

Yesterday was horrid, but all of the people involved were kind. From the woman who cleaned my bloody face with a towel to the Muslim woman and her husband who accompanied me to the ambulance, I saw nothing but concern yesterday. The airport staff were second to none and today located my hand baggage which had been handed in and will have it sent to be here and the Registrar who dealt with me yesterday had to be pushed to discharge me only because she was being kind keeping me, knowing that I lived in Wales and not London. 

My sister has just popped up too, ironically with a pasta supper, and although concerned found that my losing a shoe at the point of collapse very funny…..funnily enough so did I 

I’ve done a few nice things this afternoon to compensate . I made stew and dumplings, cut roses from the rebloomig rose Bush in the front garden and bought a string of light up dinosaurs from Tesco which I hung over the fireplace 

The stew, roses and dinosaurs all look cheerful.

Fuck

 I joked with my sister that I wouldn’t get to Rome , given the fiasco of the post lockdown flight cancellations , and what do you know, I fucking didn’t 

In the line for security, I collapsed ( fainted ) onto the man and his wife  and their luggage in front of me.

I remember nothing of this  but a sudden hot feeling and then faraway voices , concerned and shouting.

I bit my tongue which bled all over, banged my head and I wet myself ( my bladder was playing up)

It was awful.

Awful.

Awful.

Medics on bikes arrived and a woman wiped my face with a cold wet towel 

One of my shoes had come off.

I felt better when the ambulance men arrived but I was taken to Ashford A&E anyway just after 9 am

I knew the routine but it was still all rather scary, X-rays, blood and urine tests , blood sugars, ECG the works. There was mention of a seizure but that reporting seemed vague. 

I talked to the registrar forcibly and was discharged

A support worker had my trousers washed which was kind

My small suitcase is missing,

I thought it was with the ambulance men as the woman with the towel told me that my bags were safe.

Someone at the airport will text me when it’s found, and it will be couriered to me

I want home

Old Friend

 

“ Hello !” The text pinged as soon as I sat down on the seat.

I think there’s only one straight through to London train from North Wales and that’s the 13.59 from Prestatyn 

My friend Tina was sat just behind me, we used to work together but she now works at a different hospice

She’s a Romany Gypsy and has more interesting tales in her on a bad day than Agatha Christie on a good day

I miss working with her as she has a earthy, easy  laugh and a voice like Eartha Kitt

She’s off at Crewe so I managed a somewhat overheard gossip with her until Chester.

I’m staying in London tonight, and travelling to Rome in the morning. I’m flying via London to maximise my mini break, tonight I will get a last minute ticket to something, or I may go to the Curzon to see a film if there’s anything good on. 

I’ve just told Tina, that I’m like the mum of three doggy toddlers….I love them, but it’s lovely to have an adult day away from them once in a while. 

She reads the blog and knows this 

Thank God for the Alf’s and Karen’s of this world

 Rather reflective today,

I had a sleep this afternoon and the dogs picked up on my mood immediately  and crowded around quietly and without bickering.

We slept from 2 pm until 5 pm and I missed a vets appointment and a pharmacy visit.

I will do that in the morning

I had a phone call this morning from an older lady who couldn’t use the mobile phone that well. 

I didn’t know her but I knew her daughter Sue

We had been psychiatric nurses and friends together back in the day

Sue died a few days ago after a long and very private battle with breast cancer.

I didn’t even know that she was ill.

She lived in Newcastle and our friendship was one concentrated upon a long and detailed letter once a year and texts, usually referring to 80s comic one liners, films we have loved and reviews of theatre trips we had embarked on.

My last text from her was in The end of July when she sent me this 

I texted back Are U Ok ? 

And received the 👍

That was her last message to me and mine to her.

Her mother was tearful and a bit flummoxed 

She is in her 90s and lives alone now.

I asked her if she had any help and was told that Alf and Karen have been very good

Thank God for the Alfs and Karen’s of this world

She told me derails of the funeral and said that Sue had left me a painting of hers

A watercolour of the River Ouse towards Acomb. 

We shared a flat for a short time just outside York

I haven’t even got a photo of Sue. I had a check this afternoon. I can’t even remember what she sounded like 

I felt bad about that

Ive been out on a walk to the fields beyond the lane 

And had a cry

A Haunting In Venice

There is only one true Venetian  ghost Movie and that is the knife wheeling midget in a red coat film,  Don’t look now. That WAS bloody scary 

Kenneth Branagh’s Scooby -doo version of Agatha Christie’s Hallowe’en Party is dreadful. Michelle Yeoh, 

Jamie Dornan and Kelly Reilly are wasted .

Heavy handed cinematography, too many dark sets and masks and I guessed the honey bit what a shame….nice to see sister Janet and sister in law Jayne.

 

Back to University Proper

 

My Venice pencil case all ready 

Amsterdam 1996

 I’ve just taken Trendy Carol’s hubby to the hospital. Driving around at 20 mph after we have been bashing along at 45 was a bind and totally impractical. 

“It’s like being in a funeral” Euan noted and I agree….it’s all one big white elephant and the cost alone of changing the street signage will be obscene 

( for those that don’t know the Welsh Government has changed all 30 Mile an hour zones down to 20  miles an hour..a very unpopular move)

I went to the chemist to sort out my repeat prescription before Rome and valeted Bluebell inside and out 

Tomorrow I’m back in college for the day.

Tonight I will light the fire and sort out my college paperwork and files on the floor of the living room

I’ve booked a tour of the coliseum, organised a car from the airport and tried to book two restaurants I have been totally recommended to, for consecutive nights but both told me they didn’t take bookings .

More single prejudice I wonder? Who knows

My discussion about eating along in restaurants have been interesting

My difficulty is that I’m just not used to it, especially at night. 

I am reminded here of a night in Amsterdam many years ago when a ex boyfriend was being a total arse. He handpicked the restaurant we had sat down in which was a swanky and somewhat pretentious affair and as other diners chatted quietly he proceeded to lose his temper of the smallest of things, most of them with no validity whatsoever .

He verbally berated me, until it grew embarrassing for the other diners to hear so red faced I got up slowly and walked out. 

It was the first and last time I had done anything like that before. 

And it was the beginning of the end for that relationship 

That night , I found another restaurant around Lord’s canal and asked for a table for one, which was hidden away in a corner

And I told my waitress I had walked away from my boyfriend’s sharp mouth after a one sided row

She was sweet, Dutch, older with impeccable English 

 “If a man embarrasses you in public” she said “he’s a klootzak” 

She was right, he was a klootzak! 

And finally, it’s officially autumn.

I’ve bought recycled coffee logs for the fire and made a corned beef hash for later whilst listening to old Desert Island Discs featuring costume designer Jenny Beavan and the glorious Sophia Loren

Tonight, the cottage is cosy

 

Arse on a Swing

 I got to Liverpool early as the train from Hooton was on time. 

So I went to Mowgli on Bold Street to practice having a meal out on my own before Rome on Friday 

Have you a table for one ? I asked and the cheerful twelve year old waiter immediately pointed to a free position in the window bar where a swing seat was facing the glass.  

Yes what looked like a swing seat faced me

I looked at the waiter quizzically as if to say, my arse on that swing.?

But he didn’t pick up on my non verbals .

“ Id prefer a table and a chair if you find one “ I asked nicely 

He couldn’t “find” one.

Hey ho.

I left

The Audience with Lucy Worsley was an interesting evening. The historian is engaging, humorous and articulate and her affection and respect  for Christie is clear basically because of Agatha’s very human reaction to her husbands’ infidelity in 1926 where she disappeared for 11 days.

Worsley is a romantic and Christie ‘s subsequent relationship with max a man 16 years her junior pleased her greatly and her positivism and pleasure of the happy ending was infectious 

Past Lives

 “In-yun” is the Korean belief that people in different lifetimes can have some sort of connection no matter how fleeting. Writer Nora ( Greta Lee) believes this as does her childhood boyfriend Hae Sung ( Teo Yoo) who she left in Korean after emigrating to Canada with her parents. 

Twelve years later the couple meet by accident on line and continue a sort of chasted , mutually intimate video link courtship until she again calls off the relationship citing it would be too long a time before they met.

Another 12 years later, Nora is living with her American writer husband in New York. Hae Sung visits them and amid much thoughts of “ In Yun what could have been” they finally go their separate ways.

Writer/ director Celine Song has crafted a gentle exploration of how change affects people, or not in the case of Hae Sung. Nora has changed her name, her culture and has a romantic job. She embraces the Hae Sung concept more than Hae Sung, the boy and man she left behind in so many ways.

It’s an interesting idea, spoilt a little by the lack of character substance, especially of Yoo’s character who is eclipsed by Nora’s Americanisation.

The film is unhurried, beautifully shot and thoughtful but I was left wanting more and receiving less

In the end, Nora’s self indulgence left me cold, and by the end of it , I was happy it was over.

Lanterns

But is it art????

 This afternoon , like the crazy bitch I am, I left the TCA AGM  to learn to make willow lanterns over at the Still House. 

I loved it . A few hours of being mindful under the quiet instruction of Ma Manley was just what I needed even though my lantern resembled a over ripened pumpkin which had been hit by a land rover .

Laurie,aka Pa Manley put on some gentle harp music on as we beavered away in their dark moody and very historic living room. The oldest house in the village .

My Fat fingers are not blessings when bending willow is concerned but I really enjoyed the afternoon , one which we are going to put out to the village one night at the hall…..

DESIGN AND MAKE YOUR OWN LANTERN 

All good clean fun.

Lunch

Even the salt shaker at the cafe has a boyfriend lol

 I was going to meet a friend for lunch, but he has a new boyfriend and his whole world is consumed with love, obsession and probably sex, so I’ve been rainchecked . 

I hate that.

I won’t say anything

But if it happens again, I will do.

I’m not very good at being second fiddle 

Even though I may be second fiddle.

And so I’ve changed my plants today. 

I walked the dogs to exhaustion , and while they sleep, I’m in Llandudno having a long quiet lunch in the Oriel Cafe, with its wide bright windows overlooking the town  and its moody French Blues music of the 60s

It’s a nice place in which to write the blog

Or to think

After lunch I’m attending a staff meeting at the hospice which means I will miss a showing of the Korean film Past Lives but I’m now  planning to see it on Monday instead so all is well.

After that it’s another walk, this time on the beach

Off to a bookshop now for a mooch.

I’ve dribbled very creamy mayonnaise down my very dark blue rugby shirt

Returning to 2012

 

I’ve nothing to chat about today. Ive got plenty to do but little to say

So I picked an old page of Going Gently to revise and re read

It’s from the autumn of 2012 when the Ukrainian Village was at its peak

And for those that don’t know Rooster Cogburn was a huge but benign cockerel who had been totally blinded

by some children and subsequently given to me to look after 

Enjoy

Well this post should warm the very cockles of fellow blogger Benny's heart!I do so hope that he enjoys it!
Anyhow!
Above is a somewhat "interesting" photo which illustrates a previous post about some animals' abilities to "team up" when they are in need of the warmth and companionship perfectly!.
Last week the blind Cockerel Rooster Cogburn lost his coop mate Vinegar Tits.
Mz Tits had recovered well from a bout of dropsy and needed to return to her own troupe of "crackhead whores" all of whom had missed the presence of their alpha female.So that left me with the rather knotty problem of who could fill Vinegar Tits' overly assertive sling-backs in providing company for the old cockerel!.
The answer came in the diminutive and neurotic shape of Phyllis Diller, the frizzle cross bantam, and I must admit from her perspective, their meeting seemed like a match made in heaven.from the get-go, as she fussed about him like Charles Hawtrey in a feather outfit.
Cogburn seems delighted with his new coop mate, his daily crowing quota seems to have increased somewhat anyway, and this morning when I opened up his sleeping quarters, the two of them were tightly cuddled up together in one nesting box, like two peas in a pod!