Jindabyne

I sort of knew that I would enjoy Jindabyne (Theatre Clwyd), when I read the blurb on it, after all I loved director Ray Lawrences' previous film Lantana in (2001) . This film, (his first in 5 years ),turned out to be a wonderfully complicated and menacing piece of work .

In the austere landscape of New South Wales,a fading and emotionally weak ex rally driver Gabriel Byrne lives for his yearly fishing trip with his fellow 40 something small town friends. The men find the corpse of young Aboriginal woman in the river - the victim of a serial killer. Rather than spoil the trip, they decide to leave the dead woman where she is, heartlessly tethering her by twine to the riverbank, and delay reporting the body until Sunday night. The reason for this behaviour is never totally explained as the film concentrates on the ramifications of the men's actions which start to shatter the lives and relationships they have with their womenfolk.
This strange, almost dreamlike story is further complicated by the character of Byrne's wife Claire (Laura Linney), who already is nursing terrible psychological problems and family dysfunction. She had a breakdown after the birth of her son, and is way too bright and intelligent for her shallow and uncommunicative husband . Claire cannot cope with the coldness of the men's actions and through her eyes we see great yawning differences between women and emotionally isolated men, the white townsfolk and the Aborigine community, and the banality of small town life and the strangeness of the Australian outback. Add to this mix a touch of native spiritualism, a truly frightening serial killer and a small girl obsessed with the death of her mother, and you have a weird,menacing and totally interesting film. Linney is wonderful as the brittle Claire as is Deborra-Lee Furness, (right pic) her life worn and damaged best friend. After nights last night and no sleep today, I was glad that I had made the effort and drive to Theatre Clwyd to see it.

Battles won ?

Nursing a hangover from a great meal, it was nice to check the coops this morning to find that the tide seems to be turning in the war of the mites. A few of the dirty little buggers remain, so I have given the houses another deluge of bug killer. Let's hope it is the end of the story as bugs don't make exciting blogs

When we are out last night the cottage wall was given yet another clack form a large wagon or lorry, that makes three bashes in one month. Plan for this week is to paint my own warning sign to be put up on the corner telephone pole, well as the council seems impotent in its powers! I shall take matters in my own hands.

Lots to plan this week, as all my early shallots, garlic,onions and broad beans need to be planted.

Life imitating art and gay soldiers?

Chris being at home today allowed me to have a whole 4 hours sleep after night shift. It was a lovely day, so took the dogs up the Gop before re launching another attack to the now boring red-mite issue.
The little buggers are back with the another vengeance, despite tough chemical measures. I dragged myself to the farm shop and bought the strongest possible topical treatment, and in a scene like the one in yesterday's Tenko, I have now quarantined hut one. (Marion Jefferson had to find it within her to marshall the prisioners to move the sickbay and clean the prision huts). For three hours I have scrubbed and squirted every inch of the coop. At least we are off for a nice meal at the Bistro later, which will make up for bug city this afternoon.

On my break I read this article on the BBC website/Science and Technology, with great amusement:-
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/7026150.stm


"Pioneering research into a "gay bomb" that makes enemy troops "sexually irresistible" to each other has scooped one of this year's Ig Nobel Prizes.
Other winners included work on treating hamster jetlag with impotency drugs, extracting vanilla from cow dung, and the side-effects of sword swallowing.
The awards, founded in 1991, mark achievements that "first make people laugh, and then make them think".
The prize ceremony took place at Harvard

University, US.
Genuine Nobel Laureates handed out the much-coveted awards to the winners, who took away no cash, but instead received a hand-made prize, a certificate, and, of course, the glory of such an illustrious win. "
I was tired and it took a moment to realise it WAS a light hearted award!!

Handbags

Fighting on you tube has been much in the news recently, and quite rightly "HAPPY SLAPPING" ought to be removed.....this fight is obviously different!

CITIES - New York - 42nd. St

Had a New York moment today as I found this video taken from the New York Helmsley Hotel on 42nd street where we are staying!

Red mites and Tenko

How much difference a day makes! Yesterday I was ambling down the South Bank, today I was covered in chicken shit and red mites again as the little buggers have come back with a vengeance.(see pic) I have been that overcome with mites that I have had to have a very hot bath laced with bleach! Two trips to the vets (one with George who has a slightly oozing scrotum) and the sweet faced 12 year old vet has given me a bottle of something to inoculate each bird with. So this evening each of the girls in the big coop have been hauled from their perches and"cleansed" Let's hope it will work

Tonight I am looking forward to a re-run of the first series of Tenko on sky. I watched one episode last night and although the quality of the filming itself is poor the ensemble piece still holds up well. Stephanie Cole as closset lesbian Dr Mason and Patricia Lawrence as pious Sister Ulrica were standouts.

Nuala

Visiting Nu always means doing what seems like an awful lot in a short space of time. I met her yesterday in All Bar One at Oxford Circus then we went to the Ice Bar Below Zero. A total gimmick, the bar is entirely made from ice (including the glasses) and the place is bloody cold after half an hour or so. Each person is given a fetching cape (right) and a pair of mittens on elastic and the whole thing was all too much (especially as it cost Nu 24 quid), but it was a lot of fun.

We had big chats and a lovely Turkish meal and managed to get back to Hanwell for eleven. Today we spent mooching around St Pauls which was lovely, then went to the Globe Theatre to watch a performance of We The People, which was so-so. The theatre itself is lovely and staffed by the nicest group of volunteers I have ever met.

Nu left to go to a swish Ball late in the afternoon and I had a lovely walk along the South Bank. At Tate Modern, I loved The spider sculpture Maman by Louise Bourgeois which has been reassembled outside the gallery. (see below)

After that I ambled over to Covent Garden,the Portrait Gallery then to Euston via the BBC (I love the oh-so art deco building)and the new Food hall at John Lewis' (where I bought garlic and sesame seeds!?) It was warm and sunny, so I didn't mind walking.

A great 24 hours

Dermanyssus gallinae,Ardal or Dara?,British Bulldogs and Pippa Jumping

It has been a disgusting morning as I have been cleaning out every hen house with jeyes fluid and a large scrubbing brush. I have noticed that against all their natural routines, several hens from the large hen house have been roosting in the smaller houses, that can only mean that the dreaded chicken mite (dermanyssus gallinae) has reared its red little parasitic head. The little buggers hide in the corners of the coops and only come out at night to suck the blood of the sleeping girls and a good Aggie and Kim clean should get rid of them. Half way through the marathon the heavens opened and undeterred (and stinking of wet chicken shit) I managed to finish soaked and smelling literally very foul!.

Last night Hazel and I went over to the Lowery Theatre to see Ardal O'Hanlon in stand up! It was a little bit of a disappointment for Hazel as she was convinced she was actually going to see Dara O'Briain (pic). In many ways I would have liked to see Dara more as he has a strong charismatic sexy charm but O'Hanlon was pretty personable.

This morning I was caught by several people in the churchyard playing British Bulldogs with the chickens. Sounds bizarre I know but there IS a method in my madness. Smaller but certainly more aggressive, the chickens have a tendency to bully the shy, benign runner ducks when feeding time comes around. I have been wracking my brains to find a solution to this problem without actually separating the two species. This morning I called the hens to the top of their enclosure and threw their fruit, pasta scraps and grain in the upper most corner. When they were busy filling their crops I legged it down to the gate and bunged a load of tasty morsels in the duck bath. The ducks cottoned on pretty sharpish and started to tuck in whilst I stood guard in the centre of the run. Now whoever said chickens were dim, would certainly have eaten their words as if by magic, and realising that the ducks were getting their bills into something they did not have, they craned their heads in the direction of the food filled duck bath with their beaks open in shock.
I grabbed two bright orange buckets ( why??) and there by started the weirdest game of British Bulldog anyone could have played. Whirling the buckets on outstretched arms I bounced right then left and left and right in an effort to stop the hens getting past me and to the duck food! The hens took the challenge very seriously and lined up to get past me like something out of a St Trinian's film. Mildred,and the more aggressive black hookers made a dummy run to the right as the Nolans and Whoopie Goldberg went for a more robust frontal attack. Baby Jane,Glen Close and the others tried to creep by shadowing the fencing and to be honest I should have given up there and then, but I was convinced I could outwit them! suffice to say all were tucking into the duck food seconds later, while I was throwing my buckets around in frustration!


William and George have settled down somewhat, as hormones have diminished. We took them all for a walk on the beach yesterday and William got trapped for a short time on a sand bar (much to my panic and worry). Later I popped down to the farm to photograph Chris jumping on Pippa. There are still not enough time in the average day to finish what we need to do!

Off to London tomorrow to visit Nu ! can't wait