Not A Real Knob in sight


Well if you enjoy a rather slow moving story about the friendship between a Victorian cross dressing waiter and a cross dressing lesbian house painter then Albert Nobbs is surely the film you would choose on a blustery Sunday Afternoon.

Not surprisingly there is not a Knob in sight in Glen Close's strange little tale of an ageing servant (Miss Close) who as an orphan disguised herself as a man in order to escape abuse and find some standing in a world which simply did not support a lone woman with no family.

In the film "Albert" is portrayed as a sad, isolated and somewhat emotionally closed character, ever fearful of being found out from his repressed, sexually confused little world; a robotic existence which is only thawed by a chance meeting with Hubert Page (Janet McTeer) a male acting lesbian , who exhibits a cracking pair of bazookas to Nobbs at a somewhat critical moment in the proceedings
Mc Teer 's performance is nicely judged


How people live with unhappiness when repressed by abuse, upbringing, class and sexism is this film's main theme; a theme that is only really successfully broached in the all too few and rather moving scenes between the icy and naive Mr Nobbs and the emotionally connected and butch Mr Page

Not the best film I have seen recently. But an interesting if melancholic effort nevertheless......

Saturday in the garden with Maude (aka Chris)

Webcam 15.10pm Trelawnyd, North Wales, The World

Now I should be the one slumbering in this photo
Just One hour's sleep in 24..... but as you can see, although I have a face that looks like a duvet in drastic need of an iron....I am still up and trying to look "with it"
Last night was a busy shift and an incredibly sad one
I won't bother elaborating
Chris is enjoying the surprisingly warm afternoon here in North Wales.
The garden is peaceful, and his birthday kindle lies unused.
I feel that we could be expecting the vicar for tea!

Things Change, Things Stay The Same

We are all just like chickens.
Well, to be more specific,
our lives are somewhat similar to those experienced by my colourful "crackhead whores", to Vinegar Tits' battling existence 
to Sorrel and her kamikaze chick's peaceful salad days.
Like them, we all just bumble on
Most of us live within the physical and psychological confines of our own back yards.
Sure we have the complications of paying bills, of family traumas, personal triumphs,  milestones, disasters and the "colour" of life in this complicated modern world, but essentially we are chickens, bumbling along together ,
the great and the good .


Now where am I going with all this?
Well , I'll tell you
...it comes from catching up with old friends,
it comes from a timely email from a loved one across the globe
and it comes from the timely realisation that the banalities of life often "take over" from what is important in the world. And that is our relationships.


As a gay man of a certain "age" I have always prided myself on keeping in touch with people.
I think of myself as "thoughtful" 
I "make the effort" so to speak
And for the most part ( and when comparing myself to the male species in general) I think I am pretty good and touching base.. but in recent times I have let that slide somewhat.
A birthday forgotten, an email not sent, a phone call not made
You all know the story.


yadda yadda yadda
Over the last couple of days I caught up with a year's worth of friend news.
Some news, like my own was normal banality.
Other news was much more poignant and important.


On both sides.


and it was good to share.


It's easy to get out of the habit

Sheffield@night


Too much wine
Lots of Gossip
Several Group Hugs
a hangover of some note
A FAT BASTARD fried Breakfast

A Gud Night
x

Hello Wall


The last line of act one of the play Shirley Valentine always resonates with me more than any other.
Sat with her suitcase in her kitchen, our heroine anxiously waits for the taxi to take her to the airport.
Breathlessly  she says something like
"what time is my flight?....
........around half past five?"
"and what time is it now?"
she looks at her watch all stressed and sweaty
"......a quarter past eleven"
Curtains fall to great applause.


I have similar sensibilities. I cannot be late for anything.
It's a control thing.
But I am not as bad as Shirley Valentine.......well....... just yet!

It's 8.30am
The Cottage is all spick and span
The animals are all fed and watered
My clothes for the day are all ironed
and my bag is all packed
My train goes to Sheffield at noon!
Hey Ho
x

Nicely put



I have no news today, hence the rather sweet Australian tv advert


I have, however, planted out dianthus ,iris, buddleia, foxglove,sweet peas in the garden and then onions in the allotment
....sold some eggs to some elderly ramblers,
....got buttonholed by the RFWF for an hour,
....cleaned out the duck house,
....disinfected the fridge,
...."swapped" spare onion sets for a promise of a load of cabbage seedlings
....spent two hours searching in vain for Chris' lost car keys,


and, in the quiet of a very early start,
I noticed that the empty place on Mabel's old sofa was even more noticeable than it had been before.......

Treasure Hunt


It won't surprise you that Chris is not really a pub person.
His sensibilities don't run to Fosters lager and pork scratchings
(he's more a veal pie and small port kind of person!)
But this afternoon he and I drank pints of ale and ate crisps with the rest of the villagers at The Crown who supported the Carnival committee's local Treasure Hunt fund raiser
It was fun
We didn't win.. of course we didn't , but as the local country "Waen" show kicked out at the same time as the Treasure hunt finished, the pub was packed with country types and farmers, and as the beer flowed , we won a bloody awful candle set in the raffle and sat with the "King of Trelawnyd" Tommy -the-gop, who filled me with old stories of Trelawnyd past!
It has been a nice change.

Going Back to my Second home

I can't really get going blog wise today
I have not caught up with blog reading
nor have I felt like commenting
But generally I feel alight, just a little weary.
We have been clearing the back garden for a couple of days
It's looking rather sweet

The cottage Garden

I go to Sheffield for a visit on Wednesday
It will offer me some timely therapy 
It's been almost a year since I last caught up with old friends
so it's time I visit
I need to chat, to laugh and perhaps to have a bit of a cry
Megan was correct when she noted that I have experienced a lot of loss recently
my heart, indeed feels just a little ragged
she's right in what she said

I will be touching base not only with the usual suspects-( the waspish Blog commentator Bel Ami (John H) Syfy geek (Mike) and Earth Mother (Jane) but will also have time to catch up with another three old friends, Kathryn, Vince and Bev , people I usually don't have time to touch base with on my usual flying visit to the Steel City.
Old Friends ground a person.
They will do me good.
I can feel a group hug coming on
hey ho