Saturday
I drove to Hooton then caught the train into Liverpool Central.
Within minutes I walked up a busy Bold Street and met Nu in the Vietnamese restaurant Pho
She’s meeting old friends up the coast later so it was lovely to see her
Two hours shot by, like the wind
The dogs were all still asleep when I got home
I so lucky living where I do, 20 odd minutes from Chester and under an hour to Liverpool
Best of both worlds
Answers On A PostCard
I’m on the way to Bangor which is a Godforsaken place.
I’m attending a study day of six hours but add the travelling and the time spent will be over 8 .
It’s a pretty drive all told.
And One I can treat myself to a MacDonald’s coffee with.
It’s a last blog today all told but what is your treat of the day?
When things are a bit tough, when life is just that bit too real
What do you treat yourself to?
I’d be interested to know
Catch Up
Chic Eleanor nodded and sipped her gin
I told her I had stalked my ex husbands’s wedding on social media last weekend
And she smiled
I think we all would have done that she said kindly
And I think she was right
So how did it feel ? She asked carefully
And do you know that it felt ok I told her
I saw an in law family I once loved posing the same poses they did at my own wedding
And I saw my ex husband looking older and heavier and balder and happy as he danced with his husband
And in that very moment I let him go
After a long five years, I let him go …….
Eleanor listened to my words and smiled her benign smile again
And she reached forward and held my hands firmly on the table top
As we sat silently in the chatter of the pub,
Holding hands
And the tears that followed were the relief
Confessional: The Scotch Egg Incident of 2011
I first told this story to my group in University and on a roll repeated it to my table at the Village Casino night.
They say confession is good for the soul.
So my soul should be squeaky clean.
By now….
Picture this…..Trelawnyd 2011….It’s summer August 13th ….Sylvia Evan’s blood pressure is through the roof as she and us, her Flower Show minions, set up for another record breaking show.
Domestic class entries are through the roof, this year and as usual I’m helping with the organised madness that is Judging Day.
It’s 11.55 am and setting up closes at midday.
Sylvia is very strict with her timings
Mona Davies arrives breathless, with seconds to spare . Her entry, a scotch egg, the only one in its class , wrapped in clingfilm on a saucer in her hand .
The scotch egg, is huge, the size of German grenade.
It is a thing of pure beauty
I almost heard heavenly music when I first set eyes on it
Now I liked Mona. She was a spinster school teacher and elder sister of farmer Basil , one of the most highly respected countrymen of Trelawnyd . They shared the beautiful Ochr y Gop farm, a slightly dilapidated Georgian farmhouse at the top of high street, and I was lucky enough to interview them both for my history blog , oral histories which have now been archived by the National Welsh Library in Aberystwyth. http://trelawnydhistory.blogspot.com/2011/05/mr-basil-davies-miss-mona-davies.html
Mona was strict and fair. She didn’t suffer fools either and was an amazing cook.
I fell in love with that scotch egg the second I saw it
Look closely the egg can be seen centre table to left
Now of course Mona won first prize for her glorious egg.
The elderly judge, who was not know for flights of fancy , even commented how magnificent it was and gave it a comment of merit which was a rarity
Now fast forward to the Flower Show final moments which have always remained a complete bunfight
The hall is packed with winners collecting their winnings (coins placed in tiny brown envelopes) and exhibitors grabbing their certificates, exhibits and extra cakes bought from the tea table manned by Irene Murray .
And in just a few minutes the hall can be stripped, like a carcass surrounded by hyenas .
I noticed that the scotch egg had been abandoned at the end of the day
Mona had left it !
I was joyful
Excited
And devious.
If it had been abandoned I was having it.
So I pocketed it as deftly as if I was jewel thief and
I hid it in my Flower Show bits and bats box as the show folded and the doors closed.
I had swept the floor, put away the rubbish and said goodbye to most of the committee, before there was a small knock on the Hall door.
It was Mona and she was late collecting her scotch egg.
Sylvia found the saucer and Mona’s first place certificate but was thin lipped in anger at the thought someone had taken the egg home.
We shook our heads at the awful thought someone had stolen it
And Mona took her certificate home with a slightly heavy heart
Am I ashamed ?
Of course I am
But do you know what?
It was the best bloody scotch egg I have ever tasted
EVER!!!!
The delightful Mona Davies
Shortly before her death in 2021
The egg in close up
The Saddest Noise from 'The Lost Birds' by Christopher Tin
On Saturday night amid the silliness in the hall, I photographed Mrs Trellis in her vintage 1970s dress looking fab.
Before she left, (wafting her money like Crystal Carrington) , she told me to listen to this piece of music if I got the chance.
She knows I’m a fan of Christopher Tin’s work but I have not heard of his lost Birds work before so after a root around I found it only this morning as I took the dogs for their first wee stop before HTC ( Hubby of Trendy Carol) picks them up for the day as I’m in college.
It kind of takes your breath away in its beauty
Not something you expect in a dark Welsh lane……at dawn…..on a Tuesday morning.
Anatomy Of A Fall
Courtroom dramas done well can be compelling cinema, but the trick for success is for the screenplay to be complicated, tense and very clever.
Anatomy of a Fall has a first class screenplay. penned by director Justine Triet and Arthur Harari which centres around the death of a jobbing writer, who falls from the upstairs window of his French Chalet. Suspicion for his death starts to build against his wife, Sandra ( Sandra Hüller) who is a successful writer with a complicated relationship with her husband but a loving one with their eleven year old son, who was blinded in an accident when he was four.
The police investigation finally leads to court where more of the couple’s relationship is unravelled by a tenacious prosecutor( Antoine Reinhartz) and the defence lawyer (Swann Arlaud) a former suitor to Saudra.
Now, add to the mix that Sandra (who is German) only spoke English to her French husband and finds speaking French a difficulty and you have a fascinatingly uneven plot complicated by the fact that on the surface Sandra is such an unsympathetic character. She is bisexual, has had affairs during her marriage and seems capable of physical violence, a fact supported by secret recordings of conversations between herself and her husband made by her husband in order to spark his failing writing career.
One recording is shown as if filmed and in it Sandra’s calm and somewhat reserved nature is questioned in a brilliantly acted scene full of passion and intelligence and skill.
It’s a wonderfully put together film, that wrong foots the audience constantly.
And although some of aspects of the trial concerning the son ( a nice performance by Milo Graner) do beggar belief ( perhaps it is normal for police officers in France to give surely opinions rather than just facts) I was hooked from the start
A long watch but it’s worthwhile.
By the way I went to see the film at the new Chester Picture House a very shiny and over-the -top and very TALL Cinema, where I had to negotiate 6 flights of stairs to get to my seat
🎶 both sides now - by emilia jones-
You are never too old to grow up a little more.
I’ve always loved this song
And never understood a word of it.
I’ve had a nice weekend all told and that was unexpected
And has been a lesson learned
I’ve emailed my ex husband and wished him and his new husband well
And for the very most part of it all
I really meant it
Hey ho
Casino Night
Sometimes we all need a bit of silliness and Trelawnyd had that in spades last night when the Casino Night rolled out the red carpet.The Male members of the TCA donned their best DJs and set up betting tables with poker, blackjack roulette, craps and the like, then for a ten pound fee, we were give 150 £ in notes to make the biggest profit.
At the end of the night there was a fun auction where people betted their winnings against each other in order to buy a hamper etc, or some unknown Booby prizes such as Afternoon Tea Out ( which turned out to be two teabags and a cake)
You get the gist.
My friend Ponies Sue and I sat with village leaders Helen And Ian, Boffin Cameron and his mum, Gill from choir and Nick, but we were soon winning money handover fist as beginners’ luck kicked in.
Boffin Cameron leading the lady riders
Over a hundred villagers turned up
It’s raining and miserable today , and again bra straps are being hoisted as I’m off to the opening of the new cinema in Chester The Picturehouse
Im going to see the French hit drama Anatomy Of A Fall this afternoon
Hey dearhearts hey ho
Over The Rainbow
Sometimes we haven’t the words to say, sometimes we haven’t any to write
Sometimes silence is the way forward .
I’m a Gemini
So chatting and chatter is in my nature
We Gemini’s seldom sit still
Having said this I was born premature so should have been a cancer by rights?
Cancerians are moody and emotional and hidden
I will leave you with this old gem
Back on Sunday
Scotch Egg Resus
Dorothy was poorly this morning and refused her breakfast
This worried me greatly as she hasn’t missed a meal in five years,
So I fussed around her as she lay quiet on the kitchen reading chair and even contemplated not going to Chester to meet my friend Ruth for lunch so worried I was
But Bulldogs are not bulldogs for a reason and by four o’clock , the scent of a sliver of bespoke scotch egg wafted around the kitchen brought the girl back from the brink of death
Ruth treated me from the butchers in the new Chester Market
I gave Dorothy a half egg ( a true prize in this house) to clinch her full recovery
Hysteria
I miss laughing like I did when I was a child
I think we all do
Laughing so much you cried
When a drunk Auntie Betty trapped herself on top of a child’s slide with a packet of chocolate buttons melting down her cleavage
When Gran Fry got locked in the lavatory and was calling out for help
When one of the posh girls from Brynterion Close put on a dance show and shouted out “Crumbs” when she fell over
Great moments of pure humour.
Night Nurse Hysteria is a common phenomenon on busy wards.
It often occurs right at the end of shift and is culmination of over tiredness, stress, the need to debrief and realisation that you will have to do the whole thing again the next night.
Once I was sat at the end of my patient’s bed on Itu, totally knackered.
A domestic decided she was going to clean the floor with a loud buffing machine and in a low voice I threatened to kill her with a drip stand if she didn’t stop
The domestic knew me and knew I was joking but the nurses around me saw the funny side of the threat and started to laugh.
I remember laughing until I cried as they did the same, the Filipino nurses still polite , shielding their mouths with their hands
And that morning all you could hear was the bleeps of the monitors and the strangled hysterical laughter of the staff
Little Fuckers
I was working in the library most of today.
A gaggle of 17 year old boys trapped me in the multisex toilet on the ground floor thinking I was a mate of theirs and all shouted Arrrhhh!!! When I finally managed to push it open, much to their horror.
I did see the funny side but that was after bellowing a very loud “ YOU LITTLE FUCKERS!” In shock ( a shout that brought the librarians galloping down the stairs with red faces and heaving bosoms)
I was down to work on Saturday but I brought in a favour and now have the night off. It’s casino night in the village which was a riot when held previously so me and a friend are going along
I’ve also organised a Japanese lunch out with another friend on Wednesday which should be fun and several more activities after that .
Janet is also taking me to see Giselle which will be a real treat as long as the wili’s impress
My ex gets remarried in a few days time , and I’m all a bit mixed up with things to be honest
Best to keep busy
Fucking hell…I’m tired of these up and down emotions
It’s like being an effin teenager in this house
Red Flag
Well surprise surprise
Patrick’s life turned out far too complicated for one Welshman to want to deal with .
I’m not saying much more but suffice to say young children and a wife are involved.
I wished him well today, and he did the same to me
He wasn’t surprised
This has happened before no doubt
And I would suggest will happen again
Complicated always means someone eventually getting hurt
Don’t post platitudes about finding the right person please
I’m fine just slightly disappointed
This video reminded myself of me
It’s a bad habit I’ve always done in pet stores
A red flag for some no doubt
Bonfire Night 1975
I was going to go to the cinema in Chester early evening, but the city is hoping to hold a firework show at the Roodee and parking will be a bitch so I’ve decided to stay home.
The fire is lit and the dogs are bored
And I am reminded of a bonfire night from 1975.
Seventies Bonfire night for us Brits was a big night.
Council fireworks on the beach brought out the crowds even though it was bitterly cold and my sister Janet and I were wearing matching duffle coats in the back of my father’s car.
We were adjuncts to his role as head of the town council
And even at eleven we knew it .
The fireworks were watched together without him
And he marshalled us only when the press photographer wanted a “family” photo.
It took him a few minutes to arrange his chain of office over his sheepskin coat .
The photographer shouted for smiles and my father hugged both of us
Something he never did in real life.
And my sister half smiled through the cold
Whereas my stern expression never changed at all.
Even now I can sniff out a physicality that is false
And my back still stiffens
New York
Exactly six years ago I went to New York, Facebook reminded me of this fact overnight !
The weather was amazing as I recall
72 degrees!!! I miss the city so
So I’ve booked, my next trip, for June next year
Duvet Day
I’m in bed.
It’s cold and although I’ve lit the fire, Dorothy and I have returned to bed and have had an extra sleep. I’m on nights just for one shift tonight ( days and nights in the same week…yes I know)
Now, I’m listening to Desert Island Discs with Patrick Grant which has proved to be a rather moving.listen whilst hiding under the duvet.
I’m looking a little like his side kick Esme Young with my Mr Motto glasses on.
Note to self order more reading glasses on Amazon.
It’s blustery outside and I ain’t going nowhere
Watching Roger
One blogger asked about this music on a previous post, so I thought I’d repost it.
It is all rather beautiful .
It’s half term in University, but I have to write an essay so will be going into the local campus library to work. Trendy Carol’s Hubby has taken the dogs.
Work needs shifts covering but I couldn’t face another day like Monday
When I walked the dogs this morning great untidy V’s of honking Canada geese flew over to the west and Mary, Dorothy and I stopped to watch them for a while.
Roger hadn’t a clue where they were and looked vaguely around the field borders in the hope of finding the location of the noise.
He’s so sweetly dim
It’s colder and feels like Autumn
I got home after four, picking some shopping up for Trendy Carol’s hubby as I did so.
I also bought some very strong cheese which I’m going to toast on hot buttered bread later as a treat.
There is nothing better than a cup of tea with cheese on toast.
I thought I’d share this little Roger moment tonight.
He was sat quietly in the Trendy’s Trendy conservatory when I called round
The girls were asleep on a couch, but he was standing guard watching a pair of blackbirds spar in the dusk gloom.
I stood and watched him for a while, wondering what on Earth he was thinking and in that time he spied me standing there.
He didn’t bark or jump up, or even wag his tail but he sort of nodded his head in recognition and although I couldn’t see his face clearly
I could tell that my dim sweet boy was smiling like a loon.
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