Sitting in A field at dawn
Sometimes your actions seem to mirror exactly the soundtrack you are listening to, and this morning, I experienced such an event, which proved to be rather moving.
At 7.45 , somewhat blurry eyed I led the dogs down the lane for their first walk of the day, They don't "do" mornings very well at all ,so the walk is somewhat pedestrian and relaxed in nature, In actual fact the pace of the walk seemed to mirror the music I was listening on my ipod, which turned out to be John Barry's theme from "Somewhere in Time".
We walked into the sheep field just down the lane and ambled slowly to the style where we sat looking back at the lights of the village. The wind was gusting strongly, but it was not cold, and as I sat down on the damp grass, each one of the dogs quietly took up position next to me, all of them touching a leg, thigh and an arm, a habit which is both comforting and rather sweet.
Moments later we were joined by Albert, who rubbed his head against each of the dog's faces in turn ( including Constance) and the six of us shared the peaceful morning air as John Barry's melancholy music played on.
An overheard gem
Last night I went to see a pretty average Iranian Movie entitled The Hunter at Theatre Clwyd....it was an so so movie and an average night.. but the whole evening was elevated by a chance moment
As I was looking at the art exhibition in the long gallery, I could just about make out singing coming from the studio theatre....I stopped by the studio door and realised that they were in full rehearsal for the forthcoming production of Guys And Dolls!
In the more or less deserted theatre ( there was only two people in audience for the movie) I stopped and listened to a cracking rendition of "sit down you're rocking the boat" it was lovely too......I absolutely love a show stopper!
Mixed Bag
I wrong footed them this morning , instead of letting the birds out then coming into the cottage for breakfast and a bit of light housework! (lol) I unwrapped my bagel and sat sentry on top of the duck house with the plastic rake in my hand.
This ruse wrong footed the starlings who remained firmly in the trees giving me the evil eye.(well giving me around a 1000 evil eyes) and their agony was compounded when I continued to remain on the field to clean out several of the hen houses but not before I hand fed the geese and ducks with some corn and bits of bagel.( you could almost hear the starlings drooling at this stage!)
I know it was a petty victory. Starlings have the brain the size of a peanut! But at least it made me feel a little better.
I have had to hide smaller feeders inside the hen houses in an effort to protect the feed from the raiders....if anyone out there has any more advice please let me know......it's becoming a bit of an obsession.
Watched a so-so thriller last night called Case 39.....It was worth watching just for the American version of Matt Cardle....Bradley Cooper who played a hunky psychiatrist!
When I was a psychiatric nurse we NEVER had any shrinks that looked like Bradley.........mores the pity.
Gawd,I have just remembered a funny memory from years ago!
When I was a student nurse I sat in with an interview an old Austrian Psychiatrist (honestly he WAS Austrian!) was having with a neurotic lady who was refusing to leave hospital ( although she was well enough to do so)
The conversation went as follows
( try to "picture" a thick Austrian accent!)
Patient (anxiously) " Oh doctor I cannot possibly leave hospital, I feel so ill, I just cannot cope"
Doctor: nodding calmly "hummmm sure sure sure sure sure!"
Patient: "no honestly doctor I just cannot go home"
Doctor: Making a mime with his hands- forming a small circle" first it like this"
Then he made a fluttering movement with his fingers
"then.........it like this!!!!"
Patient (bemused) " I dont know what you mean doctor!"
Doctor: "watch my sweet" and slowly and deliberately he repeated his mime and stated again
"First it like this.....now it like this!"
The patient looked confused but nodded imperceptibly in politeness
Four times the doctor performed this very slow little game, and after the final mime asked gently
" you understand my dear?"
The patient nodded
"OK he said brightly waving his hand to the door "You discharged!"
"Yes doctor" the patient said vaguely and got up and walked out.
After she left the office I sat there rather confused by the whole thing then piped up
" What did you just do?"
The psychiatrist smiled thinly as he cleaned his glasses
"who knows!" he said simply...... " it worked!"
The Object of A Bulldog's Affection and Rock Concert Rehab
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| Constance's "Happy Face" |
Not a bad service all told eh?
When "tradesmen" visit the cottage I am well practiced with the control of the terriers. Over friendly William is usually locked away briefly in his crate whilst nervous Meg is banished to the peace and quiet of the bedroom window seat. George being rather non plussed with visitors can be safely left to free range so I left him and the dead pan Constance to have the run of the cottage.
The BT man turned up promptly and was a young, rotund and chatty character who cheerfully waved away any problem with a couple of dogs watching him work stating that he had a boxer dog of his own.(I always warm people that dogs are around)
As he bent over to put his equipment onto the floor, Constance in a fit of excitement and barely concealed affection leaped onto the couch arm and threw two very heavy paws on each of his shoulders as she offered her face up to be kissed.
From the Kitchen I heard the chap yell out a loud "Fuck......ing Hell!" and raced into the lounge to find him holding tightly onto Constance as if they were dancing.
"I think she likes me" he joked as 25 kilos of infatuated bulldog blew kisses into his face,and between the two of us , we managed to separate man from beast.
I had never seen Constance react in such a strong way to a stranger before and I think this excited behaviour it is a testament to how comfortable she is with us in general....Indeed Is this the same dog whose former owner described as shy and retiring?
Anyhow the BT guy finally fixed the problem and after kissing Constance goodbye, (I promised she'd write) he left us to get back to internet normality!
Rock music is a sort of anathema to me , so I was fairly surprised to find myself at a sell out "gig" by North Wales' premier rock band The Alarm on Saturday night.
I was glad I went.....
The music was too loud, too , thumping and far too much for me of course..but for my Brother Andrew, who is the guitar tech for the band, it was a cracking good "do". Only days after he had undergone his emergency tracheostomy, and with my sister in law "manning" the portable suction machine he insisted he went to the 30th Anniversary concert to support his band and his friends.
My sister Janet tells the story better than I could ( see Janet's blog) suffice to say that as a I nurse my presence was needed for morale support and not for any physical need.....Andrew and Jayne coped with everything very well.........and it was great to watch Andrew "taking a risk" in order to do something that was important to him.
Rehabilitation is not just learning to change a trach dressing or dealing with some needed physio you know!
It's all about coping with some dry ice and a lager splashed rock concert way into the wee small hours!
or as Lemonyrenee said more beautifully
""Life is not about waiting for the clouds to pass; it's about learning to dance in the rain."
John Barry - A Tribute
Yes back on line !
I will write a post on how Constance molested the British Telicom workman later when I have more time..... but first I will leave a brief Tribute to the film composer John Barry who sadly died today aged 77.
He had a sweeping majestic style that graced so many movies, from James Bond, Born Free, Somewhere in Time and Dances with wolves to the likes of Out Of Africa and Zulu
This sweet piece of music is entitled "Crazy Dog" and was written by Barry as a tribute to his dog!
Broadband down!
Still no Internet....
we couldn't book lunch out cos we couldn't find the telephone number
We couldn't find out what was on at the cinema.....and I've had to "touch base" with the blog at my sister's house (albeit briefly)
speak soon!!!- a little man is coming out tomorrow ( between 1 and 6pm)
Then all should be right with the world
Going Gently- a lady blog?
I had to laugh the other day.
Someone described Going Gently as a "woman's" blog......
They also mentioned in no uncertain terms that it was homophobic, which is an interesting take on a middle aged homosexual with 50 chickens and a bulldog called Constance, but I will leave that argument well and truly alone.
I am not bothered that Going Gently could be seen as "feminine"...given the content I will take that description as a compliment.....as I have always enjoyed the company of women to that of men. Now I can do "men" as it were, friendshipwise, be sure on that! Out of perhaps nine close friends I have, four are male and out of those only one is gay, (another mate is sooooooooooooooo showbiz and a self confessed old queen he's as good a gay as you can hope for)..... but the rest , of course, are ladies!
Like Many gay men I was surrounded by women when I was growing up ( oh I know I am generalising here- so don't write in)....My mother was a bit of a drama queen in the style of Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce whereas my maternal grandmother played a cross between Jane Darwell in The Grapes Of Wrath and actress Elizabeth Spriggs ( google her). Of course my twin sister and Elder Sister were always around like the cast of Little Women ( I would have been the irritating Amy..though I always saw myself as the virtuous Beth) and in the wings there was also a selection of strong aunts, family friends an a diminuative paternal grandmother to back up the oestrogen levels
Here, on the blog I am surrounded by fellow like minded bloggers , the majority being women, and its lovely.
Of course, as in my real friendships ( and I mean that nicely) I have a few guy friends here that are well and truly connected to their sensitive sides, and I sure that the blokey Yorkshire Pud,Eric, Tom (s). Welsh John,etc won't mind me saying this, but the majority of buddies are non nonsense "garls!" with the odd wise cracking gay thrown in........just the way I like it!
I am writing this on my break at work. For a change it has been a quiet night. I need to close up now as I want to eat my cup-a-soup then rinse the soup stains out of the front of my uniform before getting back to job in hand
Leaving A Mark
I was out just after dawn this morning and as I pottered about, I noticed two figures standing by a plot in the "new" graveyard just beyond the fence.
Yesterday, an elderly man from the village had been buried. Although I only knew him to say "good morning " to as I walked the dogs , I knew he was German and had been in the village since the 1940s, where he had been working as prisoner of war. Apparently he lost his German family in the conflict and stayed on in the village, marrying a Welsh girl after the war had finished
Having only very distant relatives in this country, the funeral was carried out in private, so the villagers that have known him for years, have made their own way to the graveside, in drips and drabs, to show their respects.
We have lived right next to the Graveyard for five years and although it is obviously a place for grief, I never ,ever think that the Cemetery is an unhappy place . On a sunny afternoon, with the horses in the riding stables snorting gently by the fences and with the chickens chattering quietly to themselves as they potter, the cemetery takes on a peaceful and reflective atmosphere all of its own.
The sterility that can be seen in more urban cemeteries is totally changed in the village by the presence of animals and the beautiful views of the distant hills. The gentle noise and motion, I have been told by visitors, is soothing and totally in keeping with being a country cemetery.
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