Everything but a black Lesbian in a wheelchair

I guess when a tv or film "formula" has been proved to be successful it is inevitable that it gets rehashed time and time and time AND TIME again.....
From the sixties and early seventies, when science fiction and disaster movies dovetailed neatly together, we have all enjoyed stories of motley groups of individuals facing disaster, peril and the unknown. Lost In Space and Land of the Giants, Made way for Space 1999 and Battlestar Galactica, then we loved the whole squeaky clean franchise of Star Trek and its lesser well known imitators, so I guess it was inevitable that in the modern, reality led 2009s, another square jawed, big boobed, squabbling group of humanity are thrust into worm holes for a bit of daring do!

I caught a bit of "SGU Stargate Universe" last night......where 80 odd Military staff, scientists and civilians, caught up in an alien attack on a bleak planet leapt to "safety" through a stargate (???) to end up marooned on an ancient spaceship a long way from home......hummm ring any bells??? I guess the whole thing was supposed to look rather dark, edgy and new.....but what I was really watching was a military version of Voyager.....and I must admit it was rather fun in a basic disaster film sort of way.
I so enjoyed picking over the characters, as the writers had worked sooooo hard not to leave ANY ONE minority group out..... so we had the maverick and obligatory English scientist/hero, an African American hero,and a Native American hunky soldier type, a couple of big boobed, but always assertive women, a fat geeky brightspark, and wait for this a Chinese American lesbian with attitude......
With Obama sorting out Gays in the military...I think it is only time before a mainstream all American series like this one will have a "Captain" with a boyfriend partner waiting for him at their duplex home on earth (...and probably wearing a nice round necked sweater).....but that perhaps will be in the next series.....

Rubbish, rubbish, rubbish.....I ENJOYED IT!

Job monday and turkey update

Prestatyn from the top of the Hill

Some days you feel your age... for most of the the time I have a 28 year old brain in a 47 year old's body...but the body has just been feeling like that of a 60 year old over the past day or so!
This morning I walked into Prestatyn to collect the Berlingo from the station, and slip-sliding down a 1 in 4 hill in a pair of sweaty wellingtons has buggered my knees and ankles big style.
By the time I reached the bottom of the hill I resembled Douglas Bader! and I must admit I did eye one old lady's disability scooter with some envy when I finally reached the High Street
It has been a jobby sort of day, with a supermarket shop, trip to a material warehouse to buy lining for some curtains and visit to B & Q to price up curtain rails. I was over awed by the material shop ( I know as much about fabric as I do about women's underwear) so I dragged my Aunt Judy with me for some technical support!

The turkey poults are now three weeks old and they seem to be developing that slightly "ugly" look of the adult birds. Like a lovestruck mother, I do not notice any defects in my babies, I think they are just perfect and rather beautiful!
.With the old weather approaching the five of them will have to stay under the heat lamp for another three weeks at least...which is worrying as the guinea fowl are due to hatch on Friday/Saturday. Brother in law ,Ned is on the case to see if any old mates of his has a spare lamp for me to hire!

Lilian, the chick I was given a couple of months ago has blossomed into a beautiful white buff lady. After feeding her and the others, and then changing the animals' water feeders, I was too knackered to do anything else.......off for a radox bath to sooth my aged bones.....I sure am getting old!

Another lie in

When you share your life (and bed) with someone else, the fact that they are not there occasionally will always mean that you don't settle or sleep as normally as you always do. So, with that fact in mind, I was wide awake at 6am, and after an extra early dog walk was comfortably tucked back into bed with coffee mug, LBC on the radio and the usual heap of dogs.

EVERYTHING was peaceful !

UNTIL.....

Albert appeared!

After a night's work culling the rodent population of the field, Albert wandered into the bedroom with the relaxed nonchalance of Cary Grant. He jumped onto the bed just as I was taking a gulp of coffee and in the darkness I didn't quite realise that he was sucking on the body of a large brown mouse.

Albert gently dropped the mouse in the centre of the eiderdown and obviously pleased with himself stepped back to watch our collective admiration for his gift.

The mouse squeaked loudly

And all hell let loose.

The dogs all reacted as though they had been electrocuted,

in a fraction of a second, dogs,coffee,duvet,netbook,Albert, digital radio,mouse and me went for a burton. The noise was deafening (I am yet to apologise to the neighbours!) as the scramble became more frantic, with the mouse diving under the bed.

As the growling and barking intensified, (I was yelling too as if that would help!) Maddie darted out and with a satisfying "crunch" finished off the poor mouse in one go.

The fight continued however, as each dog wanted the body, so after a brief struggle, I dragged the corpse free (I am naked and covered with hot coffee at this point) and ran into the bathroom still chased by all four dogs, to throw the mouse out of the open window....

so much for a lie in

Salad Days

Now the dogs don't "do" early mornings. They get up with the dawn to perform their "needs" on the lane, after which I sleepily scoop up their "items" with the obligatory plastic bag before they troupe back to bed for a lie in!
Presently we are all heaped together on and under the eiderdown, they farting happily in slumber, me on my blog (with proper coffee in hand!) It is too early to let the birds out and the cottage is silent
Now, last night I noticed that I had 111 "friends" on FACEBOOK ! A feat which I think is pretty amazing as I seldom log onto the site...However I did notice that an old colleague from 1986 had posted a somewhat obscure photo of me and herself on "my photos"
The photo was taken in a tiny bistro in York.....The hair styles were all very 80's and a very youthful and rather geeky me, can just be seen to the very right of the photo border. I was a newly qualified psychiatric nurse when the photo was taken, and seeing it again after so long got me to thinking about my salad days back in Yorkshire in the 1980's
Some aspects of your life, you can amazingly forget about when older, wiser and just that little fatter! I know I tend to wax lyrical about my happy "mid life" experiences in Sheffield, but I seldom recall those early nursing days in the beautiful city of York.

I qualified as a RMN (Registered Psychiatric Nurse) in 1886. None of our group of 8 students planned to staff in our training hospital in Chester, so it seemed perfectly reasonable to move to a city with similar sensibilities!.
I was lucky to get a job in York, I had no idea of what to expect, or indeed what my role would be, I just went for the interview as all the others did and got the job! My placement was at the prestigious Bootham Park Hospital (below), which was the showcase for the Health authority at the time. The hospital was small, comprising of only 6 wards as I recall, and I secured a job on ward 1 which was an acute admission ward for around 18 general patients and up to 6 mother and babies.
I was given fairly basic accommodation at the nurses residence at Clifton Hospital which was the old asylum two miles away.I was 24, but a young and gauche 24, so a new job in a new city,was pretty tough for me at first....but on reflection I had a blast of a time!
My allocation to the nurses home gave me contact with a huge group of new starters! 20 or so student nurses, all nervous of the challenges ahead provided me with a ready made group of friends and that coupled with a young and bright set of work colleagues which were also "on tap", meant that the 2 years I was a staff nurse was one big social experience!.

In York I had a steady stream of girlfriends (Gay realisation was sadly yet to dawn!!!), an introduction to other cultures and races (which never happened in Wales or indeed the very conservative Chester) and intellectual stimulation by open minded bright people. It was also where I started my Love affair with Yorkshire and the straight talking Yorkshire people, with their wonderful flat, warm way of talking and deadpan sense of humour.
On reflection I loved my time there and I learnt so much. Professionally, the ward was run sympathetically and with great thought. The ward manager (an obese jolly ex community nurse--who incidentally had been run over by her own car months before I started and therefore was transferred to the inpatient facility!) had, as I recall a big heart and a knack of developing her staff with time and care,On reflection I blossomed under her guidance.
I also teamed up with another staff nurse called Tracy Birkin ( I am on a memory roll now!!! ) who provided me with big sister-ish support. Fearless and insightful, she became my professional hero, and with a personality as big as a bus, helped me develop from shy Welsh geek into a more sociable more rounded friend. (she was also famous at being able to run 1000 yards in high heels to catch any absconding patient before they reached the hospital gates!)
So this morning I have had a memory "romp" about the people I used to know in that faraway part of my life....I wonder where they are now....Tracey married and moved to Goole I think, but the others such as Linda Mapplebeck, Cathy Audin (who looked like Dennis the menace) Sue Kirton, Mandy Moore, Jim Cooper, David Griffith, Pete Curry, Barry Ford,Boy next door-Martin Kirby ( who, on reflection I secretly fancied ) have all disappeared from view when I moved to Sheffield to start life in "spinal injuries "....
Two friends I do keep in touch with, Cheryl and Gill still write occasionally in Christmas cards and in brief e mails......I am not sad......on reflection........like I said.,......York was a blast!

Hitchcock night

The day has flown by! This morning we experienced the usual screaming abdabs from Chris as he tried to prepare for his trip to London but failed (as per) to find all of the necessary items for his journey. This time (and wait for this one) it was his knitting pattern that he couldn't locate, but after a 20 minute rant and rave, it was located and he could get on the train with a few minutes to spare. Chris was going to attend his great Uncle's birthday bash on some University campus or other with the rest of his family, then plans to spend the rest of the weekend with them in Broadstairs. I am on Turkey, hen and dog duties, of course! so tonight I have lit the woodstove, got out my box set of Alfred Hitchcock thriller dvds and a nice bottle of sauvignon blanc and plan to have a restful evening on the couch with the dogs. (above Albert hogging the fire)

It has been cold today, the chill in the air has left the village looking rather washed out and opaque, and apart from a sprightly Mrs Jones who called for some eggs, most people have kept to their houses and the warmth of central heating and fireplaces.

It feels a little like winter

Broken Embraces-Los abrazos rotos

Though not one of his better films,Los abrazos rotos is one of Pedro Almodóvar's most somber and melancholy productions. As usual we are treated to all of the complicated narrative Almodovar touches regarding an obsession with life, death and passionate love, but Broken Embraces is complicated by his clear fascination and love of everything cinema.
Hidden in every twist and turn there are references to his early "Douglas Sirk" work- Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, Film Noir (where Penélope Cruz is pushed down a grand staircase) and to the screen icons of Audrey Hepburn and Monroe, but ultimately Broken Embraces is a film about the making of a film.
Mind you I absolutely hated the English title.......
Cruz is wonderful as the trophy wife/prostitute/ actress/lover and I was rather impressed with the sour faced Blanca Portillo who plays a plain assistant to Cruz' lover...
I liked it, but it was certainly not in the league of say All about my mother,Bad Education and Volver
I gave it a good 7.5 outof 10

Harvest festival and other bits

The Church bell has been ringing this afternoon to signify the Village school's harvest festival service. The primary school children in their smart blue uniforms lined up, two by two, on the Church path, before they entered with their teachers, and their moms and grans drifted in earlier as I herded Rogo, Hughie and a gaggle of hens back over the field boundary. I think it is lovely that there seems to be such a close relationship between school and Church.Using the Church almost as an extension to the school's main hall (I don't think they have one) makes such good sense to me.
I have spent five hours shifting what seems like tons of stone from the collapsed Church wall

and whenever I stopped for a diet coke break, the debris was picked over by a hoard of hens. The job is far, far bigger than I first thought, but once done it will (hopefully) look quite impressive. The hard work will be worth it, as I would have amassed mega Brownie points as far as the Church council is concerned. For them to repair the collapse professionally would cost thousands!
William has spent his usual hour and a half, gazing longingly at the new turkey chicks. I have left the shed door open in the sun to harden off the 18 day old poults just a little and he has practically wet himself with semi controlled excitement.

One turkey chick has been pecked in the eye by a member of the brood and looks a little unwell. Gently I have cleaned the eye with coddled water and put a little antibiotic into his water. Hopefully he will be ok.

Tonight I am meeting up with Hazel for a Pedro Almodóvar fest! we are going to see his latest film Los abrazos rotos (Broken Embraces)

Hughie the gay guinea fowl

This afternoon has been set aside in order to dismantle more of the collapsed Church wall. The piles of rubble ( one face stones the other smaller stones and scree) have been steadily growing all week, and today the hens accompanied by the ubiquitous Hughie have taken over the mounds in search of insects and bugs.
Hughie is such a sweet little chap. Unlike any of the hens, who are pretty peripatetic in their liaisons and behaviour, Hughie is constantly in need to be a only one step behind his hero Rogo.
Wherever the big red cockerel goes the funny little bird with a big voice and a somewhat bemused and shocked expression is surely only inches away, and their "friendship" has been the subject of much comment and amusement by visitors to the Churchyard. "I have never seen a gay bird before", one old chap commented cheerfully as the pair trotted past ...........try going to a Joan Armatrading concert I felt like saying
The guinea fowl is still incredibly nervous of strangers, and if anyone new arrives within 100 yards his machine gun call echoes time and time again around what seems like the whole village.....I have been winning him over ever-so-slowly with handfuls of corn and the odd piece of bread, but he as yet, only allows me to come within six feet or so before legging it behind his hero Rogo
Tonight I called up to give my sister in law, Jayne her birthday gifts Happy Birthday!!!!...... I left Chris complaining about the curry I cooked for him for tea! (I had put vegetables in it!.....unforgivable!!!)