Theatre Clwyd goes GAY?

" This film is based on real events! " proclaim the written introductions of many "true life" movies, and Amnesia; the James Brighton enigma is no different. The story itself is fascinating-. In 1998, in the early morning hours after Montreal’s massive Black & Blue circuit party benders, a man awoke in an alley, in the buff, with no memory of who he was or where he came from. He knew only one thing: that he was gay. Eventually, after a long media campaign, family members from the southern U.S. would identify him accurately. Amnesia tells fictional events that could have led to this weird event, and it would have made a more interesting film under a different director and certainly with a more charismatic leading man. However, the film did have something interesting to say about how many gay men and women totally reinvent themselves when they come out , and how they create "urban families" where support and acceptance can be sought in safety away from often painful "pre-gay" lives.

The gay film festival was awash with gay locals................NOT!..... a few lipstick lesbians sat defiantly on the back row and as usual the grey hairs were dotted around in their sensible coats....humm very off the wall!

Help

Still smarting form my girly inability to negotiate the painting ladders and one hours sleep after a bloody awful shift on ITU last night ( Three admissions in three quarters of an hour!) it was nice to wake up to my brother Andrew (right) painting the high bits of the cottage wall and Steve (left) cementing the broken front garden wall. I was also glad to have a collection of eggs and vegetables available to give them both a gift after their work.
18 days off from work!! I am so excited , as I know the allotment can finally be finished to my satisfaction. It is a lovely sunny day today, so I will cut blog short to take William for his walk.
(The rose is the "ice cream" variety and has just bloomed in the front garden)


Good News, William's Bollocks and the gay film festival

On night shift again tonight and am prepared for an altercation if I am moved for the third shift running! After that I have 18 days off until my next shift as I have swapped some nights to help out with a colleague's family needs. I will almost forget how to do an arterial blood gas when I get back to work! Wonderful!

Ann the secretary of the Parish council called in today and told me the fight over the field almost seems to be resolved. Apparently the Church of Wales DOES own the land but they are happy for the Parish Council to get the rent for it! I can hopefully sign next week and finally have the land to myself!


William seems to have recovered from his operation and doesn't "fiddle" with with his sutures too much (George being smaller gets his nose under there more frequently) We have not had any big fights since "the op", but I am not sure if it is the lack of testosterone that is the reason rather than our acquired ability to preempt any triggers to conflict. I find the tv programme The Dog Whisperer very interesting and some of what the presenter Cesar Millan sounds like sound common sense. He advocates exercise, discipline and affection ( in that order) to keep the pack happy, and stresses that the human has to be the pack leader at all times. Which is not at all easy!

Theatre Clwyd is showing some films from the London Gay and Lesbian Film festival ! (albeit ONLY two films! .....can two films be actually called a festival??) Anyhow tomorrow we are off to see Amnesia: The James Brighton Enigma (2005)



A worry


What a surprise, ITU quieter today, so I ask for an annual leave day. The senior sister on nights says no, and I get moved to help run a ward that I have no knowledge of. Humm wonderful management!!!!!!!!!!!! My displeasure was evident to all, but that is the price I have to pay for being a grunt and not a manager any more. I went to work on a medical ward, and work I did! .....As a ward manager I checked the standard of care constantly and prided myself on a job well done. As a lowly staff nurse I am constantly shocked at the pressures put on understaffed ward personnel and the tatty haphazard organisation and sloppy care that can result. For obvious reasons I am not going to say more....suffice to say....I just don't want to be old and get admitted to a DGH

A cool, cool evening

I am beginning to hate the air conditioned aseptic nature of a 12 hour shift on intensive care. Suddenly the unit feels rather small, oppressive and claustrophobic and I know this is happening more and more as I get used to working outside the majority of the time. Tonight I stood in the field like Tim Robins soaking up the rain in The Shawshank Redemption and the cool, slightly wet evening air was lovely after the sterility of hospital.

Nothing day


2 hours in the rain, but I have powdered all the girls bar one (One of the new black hookers managed to get out of the coop) Most of them like Mildred and Glen Close accept being picked up with a firm hand, but I did get two or three nasty pecks from of the Nolans. Egg production : only 13 today
Any reader who thinks I am a tad obsessional with my girls should look at this


Its been pouring down all day, so ,most of the afternoon I have been dog walking (William separate so that his stitches don't get pulled) and ironing! Am working all weekend so things a little quiet on the blog front.

Déjà vu,.... I am 'Scottie' Ferguson & the Archers improve

Up early this morning to take William to the vets for his castration op. We weighed him before I put him into his holding cage, and I was surprisingly taken aback when I realised the cage was the one Finlay was in just before he died. Puppies have this particular "surprised" look when confronted with new unknown stimuli and this vulnerable "look" coupled with the Finlay connection, suddenly upset me and I made my excuses to leave pretty sharpish. I hope that the operation will calm the teenage testosterone between the two dogs, but we do have a contingency plan if the fighting does continue and that is Janet and Ned. After Hattie died both are thinking of getting a dog, William will at least have a place to go! even if it is for a short time. Picked the little chap up this afternoon and he looked pretty sprightly despite the operation (and dispite the fact that I actually stated his name was Finlay to the receptionist). Feeling guilty I gave him 2 free range eggs with some feed in an effort to make him feel a bit better when we got home.

Started to paint the upper windows of the cottage this morning and I literally forgot that I am terrified of heights. Now I understand that standing on a ladder only ten feet from the ground is not a scene from Cliffhanger or Towering Inferno but as soon as I climbed up on the outhouse roof, the old legs turned to jelly and I felt as wobbly as I did when clambering up the battlements of Conway Castle! After two minutes and with only two square feet painted I had to kneel on the outhouse roof to steady my nerves (and to look fairly normal as Carole walked past) but then had to clamber down feeling rather "girly" and ineffectual..............what a twat!
The Archers' storylines have been rather lacklustre as of late, what with the Ambridge snake story (do exotic reptile dancers actually ever existed in real situation?), and Lower Loxley's Uncle Rupert Memorial rubbish. But I was genuinely moved the other day when bustless Ruth listened to single mum Emma's lament at being a sad, and single Mum with no prospects. The Archers can do that so well, often weeks go by with general mundane storylines, then a little gem of a piece can suddenly surface which stretches the actors and re enforces the great standing of this lovely soap.
To everyone but John H, Scottie Ferguson is the hero is who is terriefied of heights in Hitchcock's Vertigo.

Life on Mars.....George and Nia

One of George and Nia's favourite tv programmes in Oz was the popular UK series Life on Mars. Chris and I have never seen this small screen homage to the 1970s but had a taste of its nostalgia and warmth tonight when we all met up for a meal and catch up. Catching up with old friends is always a lovely experience, especially when things seem to take off where we left them, I cannot quite believe that we last all met up a few years ago! Nia and George feel like family; we don't live in each others pockets, we don't need to............. We both are distant constants in each others lives. A good night