A gay dad explains Pride to his son
Nothing else needs saying
There’s nothing sadder than a damp Drag Queen
I went to Prestatyn Pride to support.
Sometimes you forget how parochial the coastal towns are in their thinking, but several comments on the event’s Facebook page reinforced to me, attitudes I thought went out in the 1990 s.
Last night I found myself answering questions like
Why can’t there be straight Pride?
What’s it teaching our kids ?
And finally
Why do you gays need to celebrate having sex?
( chance would be a fine thing)
Sadly it pissed down
Janet met me and Roger to watch. And I’m now sat in the storyhouse in Chester on a sort of date
Unexpected and welcomed
Hey ho
Moon River
The West Cheshire Hospital in Chester was the old asylum. Before that it was called Diva, the Roman word for the city. Essentially it comprised of the main 1829 Georgian building with scores of satellite two story wards connected by brick built corridors which gave visitors the sense that you were in fact underground.Those corridors were long and dark a creepy and as a student nurse, I negotiated them always in a hurry.
One night, after 8 pm, in winter, I was walking up that corridor from Whitby ward, when I heard singing. A woman was singing Moon River gently to herself somewhere ahead of me. The voice was elderly and faltering, but because of the acoustics had a certain emotional power to it and every time I turned a corner I expected to see a patient , who was probably late for curfew, walking back to her ward.
But I saw no one
I just heard the voice always a little way ahead
Two drifters off to see the world,
There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after the same rainbows end
Waiting round the bend
My Huckleberry friend
Moon River
And me”
And it stopped when I reached the main corridor and the sliding green door which lead to the nurses home, beyond the Church.
Doggy hugs and The FLOWER SHOW ( not forgetting the novelty vegetable photograph)
Your photos can be sent to me Via email to jgsheffield@icloud.com
Ive seen two of my counselling clients for the last time this morning
My final clients before I hopefully qualify
It’s been a month of endings
Sorry to bang on about it but
Tomorrow I will find out if I qualify in July..three years….
I was tired and spent when I got home
Overwhelmed and a bit emotional
I went to trendy Carol’s to pick up the Welsh and
As I walked through the gate they saw me from their place on their own sofa in the conservatory and immediately jumped up
Roger galloped over excitedly , his ears flapping his face smiling
With Mary tottering behind him as quickly as she could
Her feet as delicate as a ballerina’s, her eyes serious
And the Welsh hug I received from both of them was the very best thing
Ever………..
Marks’
I’m in Mark’s & Spencer’s cafe.
Grabbing breakfast with the other grey hairs before I go to my last supervision of my student hood .
I will miss my supervisor, who is insightful, calm, focused and unflowery.
I can’t bullshit her, or myself when I’m with her.
I feel, when she looks at me, she sees the real me
That was disconcerting to start with
Her professionalism has made me more professional.
After supervision I’m going to finish off my counselling paperwork,( which is considerable)
Tomorrow I have my final three clients which will put my counselling hours to 103
Friday my portfolio will be submitted
They have no avocado on toast in the cafe
I sigh theatrically
They never do
The cashier looks at me the way that Weaver does,
Through narrow eyes
When I pause , trying to work the carbs out in the other breakfast on offer
I’m not having the attitude this morning
“ I’m a new diabetic , I have to be careful” I told her
She smiled weakly
Which said, I just can’t be arsed
Planting
I took a villager for his hospital appointment today, which usually prompts a panic attack. Roger was in the back and clumsily struggled into the front to sit on my passengers knee and not a hit of panic was to be seen all the way there and back.
“You’re my therapy dog” the villager murmured as he kissed Roger on the head when we returned home.
And Roger smiled his usual smile.
This afternoon, I’ve potted up the plants Janet gave me for my birthday, and even had the energy to clear away a ton of ivy from the French table and chairs.
The Welsh watched me lazily, and even Bun came out briefly to see the fun.
As usual Weaver remained aloof , but I saw her once in my office window , sat next to the Queen, watching carefully with narrow eyes.
I like gently sunny teatimes that build gently towards The Archers.
I played Vide Cor Meum, loud
Lovely
Lovely Theatre Shame About The Musical
I went to the soft opening of the semi finished Theatre Clwyd tonight and what a beautiful renovation it is and will be. Gone has the glum 1976 claustrophobic feel where white concrete, red bricks, gold and glass has made way to a lofty airy modern space filled with wood, natural colours and soaring windows overlooking Mold town and the surrounding green hills.
The arthouse cinema will make a return too……..how wonderful
The musical Tick Tick Boom was a little dated and shouty for me. But it was professionally done acted and sung , and beautifully staged. But I’m a sucker for a good song, and Jonathan Larson’s musical didn’t have many.
Which was unfortunate
Birthday
Lots of lovely birthday messages today, and I’m seeing family tonight which is lovely too, but I needed to get out of the cottage today to do something.
Pottering around at home on your birthday is a recipe for self pity no matter the number of texts and messages and lovely gifts that have been sent.
I went to Chester to see the 11.30 showing of The Salt Path
It’s a gentle, emotional film of a much loved real life story and novel
Ray and Moth Winn ( Gillian Anderson and Jason Issacs) are farmers who have fallen on hard times. Their home is repossessed after a financial deal went wrong leaving the pair effectively homeless, and with only a few pounds to their name , the couple embark on an epic walking Journey from Somerset to Dorset in a bid to distance themselves from the reality of their situation.
It’s a journey of redemption for the couple, and is a desperate way of coping with homelessness, poverty and the fact that Moth is effectively disabled by the fatal neurological condition of corticobasal degeneration.
The leads are wonderful and have that economic telepathy only long term couples who still love and respect each other have. Issac is especially good, underplaying Moth’s character with dignity, strength and finally proud emotion.
It’s an intelligent film which will have you unexpectedly weeping at the most tiny and well observed nuances of acting, and I can tell you that Issacs is a sexy as hell 62 year old.
I went to my old standby Storyhouse for a low carb bacon and egg and sausage harissa brunch with strong coffee and no pudding and I’ve written this review alongside the other students writing their essays and assignments in the library come cafe
63,and not out as yet.
Gifts
Have I told you it’s my birthday tomorrow?
It’s all me me me , lol
My shift is going ok, and my weak arm is holding up, to be fair the night is quieter than usual but I have taken the “ heavier” patients in order to stretch myself physically
I’ve been thinking what my most favourite birthday gift has been……
Finlay….
Hildegarde
The FedEx delivery man liked my dinosaur
“That’s Cool” he observed as he posted the envelope through the open window
I preened
It’s always nice to have one’s dinosaur complimented.
I thought it was a birthday card.
It wasn’t
It was a gift of banknotes with a kind message which said “ a graduation gift…”
I was moved into a shocked silence
It was sent from a faceless Hildegarde
A name which conjures up an interesting accent, a round kind face and a mysterious past.
Sometimes it’s hard keeping upbeat
I’ve had to resort to bra strap pulling on many an occasion,
Fake it to make it,
When ill health has compounded those loneliness of days or self doubt has questioned the validity of the last piece of academic work I handed in without someone on the other side of the kitchen table to say “That’s not at all bad”
Hildegarde’s gift has come at the most opportune of times.
I’m working tonight and don’t really want to.
And her gift has boosted me today.
As had my video presentation on Grief Therapy result,
which has just undergone its second marker check
Another A
How wonderful is that?
I’m sharing that with you all because I have no one else to share that with.
I’m sharing Hildegarde’s kindness because it was kind and much appreciated
A birthday gift from Nu arrived today as did a smattering of cards,
I took the Welsh for a walk and out for breakfast
They shared a cheesy flatbread and I had my coffee and porridge
And we ate in Bluebell overlooking the sea
Together
Man Crush
Did I tell you that I’m 63 on Sunday?
Am I too old to have a man crush?
Well I have
Jason Mantzoukas
Beard like a rabbit nest
I’m smitten
Have him wrapped up and sent round
Giselle
Sometimes we limit ourselves because of effort and boxes which we construct around ourselves. The broken handle on the back door is a case in point, I’ve lived with it for months now, and only recently has it got on my tits enough for me to fix it today.
And that’s satisfying as fuck!
Today I’ve decided that things need doing.
I read with interest that the National Ballet Company of Japan is guesting at the Royal Opera House in July. It performs Giselle and I’m bloody well going to the Saturday matinee, I suspect it will be a delightful experience so bish, bash, bosh , I’ve got me an ok seat and an early train to London.
I’m on a roll today.
Patterns
“John does find positive comments difficult to hear and has a tendency to be more comfortable with negative feedback, this continues to be work in progress for him.”
I am reflecting on this sentence. Just one from an excellent three page report from my supervisor , she’s perfectly right, that this continues to be a work in progress for me.
My 1970s childhood was devoid of parental praise and that’s why it feels awkward when I’m praised by authority figures. I’ve always understood that dynamic it’s the go to dynamic of me returning to negative praise that’s I’ve now understood more and more, even I though I’m a man rapidly approaching his 63rd birthday
Stopping yourself returning to what you know ( but also what you despise ) can be difficult but it’s perfectly doable with practice.
I’ve reread my supervisor’s report and have accepted the positives therein
Hey ho
It’s my birthday on Sunday ( Janet’s too) I think her birthday gift will feature another London trip or somewhere further afield .
Mary is back home, where she should be, Trendy Carol and her hubby, loved having her, I have a sneaky idea that they would love to adopt her
But she’s home Roger watching her carefully
A Good Day
Sometimes you make your own good day
Other times it’s made for you.
Today has been a bit of both.
I got up early, and amongst jobs cut roses and honeysuckle and euphorbia from the garden and put them in a gaudy Welsh jug that was doing nothing.
Roger and I went for a sausage breakfast on Colwyn Bay Promenade then went to the hospice to retrieve my emails as he tottered around the staff, bumming treats.
At midday I met up with some of the hospice staff for lunch and a haircut and a gossip .
They are a nice bunch, and I could feel their good ( and very black) humour lift my psychi
This evening it’s two video calls with friends in Manchester and Sheffield
It’s been a perfect day
Quite lovely
Pottering
Im sat in the forcourt of a busy garage and shop in St Asaph waiting to meet with my counsellor and her hubby who have my final report documentation for university.
Im feeling a bit like an over the hill drug dealer but they dont, im sure, eat McDonald's porridge with a cardboard spoon when waiting to meet
Ive bought her a pretty yellow lilly as a thank you.
Today has a flower theme as im delivering flower show programmes with Randy Roger in tow. Mary is resting under the gentle eye of Trendy Carol's hubby, a man who will spoil her rotton.
Ive had a long chat with my boss at work yesterday and have we have agreed to a phased return starting next Friday. This means I will effectively work one shift and two study day shifts in three weeks, enough time to see how I feel and more space to review my options.
My supervisor reflected that its been an awful year for me so far, which I disagreed with. I do however think that it is a pivotal one where work and choices are concerned
This weekend will be useful to contemplate my options
Hormones and laburnum
My laburnum is so in flower it can be seen from space….
Well that’s a lie, but it can be seen from the lane window
Which pleases me.
Roger has been affected badly from Mary’s “ final” and sudden being in season…it has now necessitated Mary’s immediate relocation to Trendy Carol’s house. Roger has now humped three cushions , my stuffed chameleon , Mrs Trellis’s red felt lobster and has attempted to mount Weaver with disastrous results
Oh lord
Help us
Where Does the Time Go?
On Wednesday it was Nu’s birthday
My touchstone , my friend , my bestie
Seeing Julia Fordham singing at the Royal Opera House last night reminded me of my salad days with Nu
When 1990 revolved around being a student, The Ledmill, too much alcohol and laughing
Where does the time go?
Was the soundtrack of our friendship in an rapidly evolving Sheffield
Tomorrow she travels by train in Norway, what fun!
I see her , on average three times a year
And she’s as necessary to me as oxygen
Ballet to Broadway
The glorious An American in Paris ballet
Late home
My friend Wendy ( who is a warm , funny woman who laughs easily) invited me to a live showing of Christopher Wheeldon ‘s “ Ballet to Broadway “ from the Royal Opera House tonight
4 very separate dance pieces one set to the songs of Joni Mitchell ( sung by the glorious Julia Fordham )below
An unexpected gem
The Flower Show
I’m a judge short.
Meirion of the lovely garden on Maes Offa cannot judge the flower section this year, which is a blow.
I’m presently in negotiation with a local potter to be our arts judge and I’m going around to see Animal Helper Pat, who is a wonderful gardener to step in with the flowers.
It will get sorted.
Trendy Carol ( looking svelte in bright summer colours) has just passed and the village feels out and about in the warm sunny month that we’ve had. Affable despot Jason has taken over one of the allotments in Bonc Terrace, and someone new has bought Trefor’s old bungalow on the corner.
No one knows who the newbies are
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