Gay Icons III

 According to wikipedia qualities of a gay icon often include glamour, flaboyance, strength through adversity, and androgyny  in presentation

Using this "template" and carrying on my Gay Icon Day, I thought I would share my top 10

 

 

Glamour and Beauty -Lady Mary

 Nancy (aka Karen Black) the cross eyed stewardess hero from Airport 75

 

Tragic Carol from The Walking Dead ( Zombies abound and she is still washing the dishes)

 

 Mrs Frazer killing the hun with an axe in Went The Day Well " Gawd Bless her"

 

 Queen Streep

 

Dowager Bette

Is he? isn't he Jeremy Renner

Cher

Posh Victoria from The Great British Bake Off

and my number 10 is?.........

Read All About it Bitch! (II)

I have just lost a rather wry blog entry about gay icons

Blogger is being a bit of a cow at the moment!

It was a product of a wet and blustery Bank Holiday morning where I have holed up on the bed with the dogs as Chris is battling with a knotty research project in his office.

It is pissing down outside

and only the geese are out and about!

Suffice to say that I was going to bang on about how much I dislike Barbra (NOT BARBARA for Christsakes! ) Streisand's 1964 hit "People...People who need People!".....

I felt as though I was about to launch myself into the first line of the song after re reading yesterday's homage to the sweetness of the general public

Don't believe a word of it...I am not THAT nice!

but because blogger has thwarted my writing YET AGAIN!..I will just leave you with a sense of wanting more and  with the peaceful and rather tear strained Olympic Emelie Sande who is one of my more recent of gay icons
The others being.....
Adele, Charlie Etheridge from tv's Road Wars, Lady Mary from Downton Abbey and
Melissa McBride from The Walking Dead

Enjoy!

Pass the tissues Bitch!

See above Blog!

People

I worked last night. Blogger is playing up yet again and my computer is having problems with Google Chrome.....minor irritations of the 21st Century...all of them.

Yesterday we went to Llandudno to get a few "summer items" from Debenhams. In two weeks time we are off to Sitges, to read books and to eat fish.

After a somewhat robust disagreement over a pair of green canvas shoes

"I am not sitting in a nice restaurant with you wearing those monstrosities" he said

We heard the most terrible scream and a  very loud bang.

People from all over the store rushed to the central escalator bank where an elderly lady had fallen head first down the steps towards the ground floor. She looked in a dreadful state, but was conscious and was immediately surrounded by several members of the public and store staff. 

If the woman looked semi conscious I would have immediately gone to help, but there is a sort of nurses' rule that I adhere to that thats if the casualty is being attended to and awaiting the ambulance don't intervene unless you have to, If the woman was losing her conscious level , I would have intervened, that's when an ITU nurse have their uses.......anyhow that is not why I am writing this post,

What struck me the most about this whole terribly upsetting incident was the genuine concern and upset the shoppers showed for this unfortunate woman. In this age of " the walk on by" I got the distinct impression that people were not just taking a rubberneck at the situation, they were, on a primeval and basic level, just genuinely concerned for a fellow human being who had cried out so fearfully , as we all went about our business in those little plastic bubbles we call "self"

I didn't buy the awful green deck shoes, Chris had been right...I did however find a more suitable brown pair. And in the overlong 20 minutes it took me to choose them and before the ambulance eventually arrived to collect the lady on the escalator I noticed that scores of people like myself quietly went over to the store railings to check on the woman's progress.

People cannot quite stop being caring...despite what most of us think in this hard, negative and selfish world

Hey HO!

My previous blog entry and the replies that followed it has made me think.
Not only do I occasionally sound somewhat older than my years (a fact I do in fact have to agree with) but I have only just come to the realisation that I have actually named my blog after a novel in which a rather vivacious Welsh character looks back at her life as she is dying after a stroke in a hospital bed.
There is, of course, an inference here that on some subconscious level I am indeed "looking back" rather than looking forward at things and this fact did concern me just a little....after all I am a young "insanely vibrant" individual that still wears jeans, a walking dead (!) T shirt and who still has all his own teeth.
I am not  ready for the knacker's Yard just yet!
Going Gently, I would like,to think, is less a look backwards at something...it was aimed to be a bit of a reflection at something.... namely the story of a lifestyle change from a city jobs-worth existence to the tale of a country gob shite's hobby farm and the characters within.....
humm........perhaps I am going through a late mid life crisis.....
I will discuss all this with my therapist

Room 101, 102, 103........

Why am I getting more irritated with little things the older I get?
I am not depressed
(well I don't think that I am?)
I have not been slighted by society
I am not an abject failure of a person who blames others for his misfortunes.
I am not a psychopath
I think I am a nice person
So tell me then...why do I get so irritated by the oddest things
(Flexes muscles and stretches laced finger)
Like these.....

This kind of tv advert actually incenses me
The target audience ( 30-40 somethings that perhaps are looking for companionship and a bit of excitement) are waved a carrot that could get them hooked on an online gambling game 
Ok, if you are stupid enough to get suckered in by the visual promise of donkey riding a new friend down Southport beach, well then what I should be saying is good luck to you, you daft buggers....but really my irritation lies mainly with the way that the Bingo company has tried to manipulate and entice

.
My next pet hate may sound somewhat disingenuous , but I do have a specific and deep seated dislike for our local Hospital Radio mobile van.
Now I am sure that in some shape and form, the volunteers that run Hospital Radio stations are doing a sterling job, especially when faced with the fact that most patients have access to flat screen tvs which blare out Jeremy Kyle 24/7... I am not irritated with them per se , I am specifically irritated by the way that this van (above) will appear at any local event and thunder out 80s hits at a level that could drown out a 747 on it's final approach.
The last time I saw it was on the day the Olympic torch came to Rhyl.
There was the bloody Hospital Radio van in a deserted Sainsbury's car park thundering out Whitney Houston's "I wanna dance with somebody"......
I almost went up to it to tell them to "turn it down, no one's listening!"
But I couldn't be arsed.

 I despise travelling on Arriva Trains Wales.
The coastal train breeds a kind of underclass , track suited, beer drinking swaggering type of passenger who really does not give a stuff about anyone or anything.
On my way to Manchester on Tuesday, I had the misfortune to be sat next to a couple of such delightful characters as I waited for the coastal train on Prestatyn station.
It was 2pm in the afternoon.
The woman who was around 40 (and looked 50) was sharing her can of extra strength lager as she bellowed her many complaints about life, love and the universe to her partner and to anyone else in a half mile radius.
Her manners was disgusting and her language was beyond belief  and after two minutes of it, I got up quickly and started to walk away
"Have I bothered you" she called after me in a slurring, sarcastic manner
"Yes" I told her shortly, but I was prudent enough to keep on walking
It's like this every time I travel by train


I could go on....but the truth is, I am now ACTUALLY irritating myself by doing so.
drunks on trains, hospital radio.....tv bingo.......lists of pet hates....
What irritates you?
Answers on a postcard

"Eliza where the Devil are My Slippers?"

At the end of Gone With The Wind, Miss Scarlett chirped "After all tomorrow is another day" and she was right
This morning the field population looks pretty much unchanged

Carol and Polenta, the  beautiful full grown Aylesbury ducks have now teamed up with the hysterical runners and have left their temporary hen house for more exciting ( and no doubt noisier) times in the large duck house. I suspect that they are somewhat bemused by the runners' "let's scream and run for the hills" kind of mentality... but they'll get over it
The old, bald and knackered  female turkey Theresa now only has the American stag Bingley to bother about now, and he, with the demise of Boris has already calmed down amazingly. It is strange just how much testosterone can be tempered when a rival is out of the way.
Five new healthy wellsummers lead the positive march towards a better egg production this year ( the weather has buggered up egg numbers quite considerably) and Felicity Shagwell and the mini mees have moved hen houses yet again and have started to lay themselves....so at least we have bantam eggs to eat at home.
The Geese group , sombre and thoughtful, remain the backbone of the field community and as I type this, can be heard honking at passing dog walkers from the gate, as can the blind cockerel Cogburn who is bellowing lustily from his safe haven run.
This year has not only been a year of losses Mabel,Boris,Alf the guinea fowl, two runners, Gloria the old female turkey and a whole aged population of OAP hens have left us, while another nine animals have arrived.
Swings and roundabouts.... swings and roundabouts!

The inflatable "sculptures" against the back drop of Tatton's Japanese gardens

After an enjoyable visit to Tatton Park in Knutsford yesterday, I have come to the conclusion that that Britain does "do" the whole Stately home thing very well indeed! 
Green lawns, formal hedged gardens and some Downton Abbey interiors are often  the favourite areas of choice of the great British public desperate for an Upstairs/Downstairs experience.
But for me, it is the Kitchen Gardens and the Edwardian hothouses that really give me a bit of a thrill.
The ones at Tatton Hall are truly magnificent

The Kitchen Garden

Flower boarders in the walled kitchen garden

The stunning fern hothouse

 Nigel said something interesting to me when I was over in Manchester. He said I often write as though I was much older than my 50 years.....
He didn't just mean this in "you're turning into an old fart" sort of way but I must admit that
after re reading this blog  perhaps I have to agree with him!...mind you.....
at least I didn't add that Tatton Park's toilets were very impressively accessible and that all I wanted to do after a long day's Stately Home visiting was to put my feet into Mrs Hopkins infamous slippers  

which I did btw!



oh and finallyWhat's all this kerfuffle about Ginger Harry ,a bit of white flesh and a set of pubes like a nest of blind mice?
He's been a bit of silly sausage 
That's all....
The Great British public love him as much as they do Stately Homes
So he'll be fine! Just Fine

Finagle's Law

I had a lovely time with my friend Nigel in Manchester.

Tatton Hall

Last night we went to see the Norwegian caper movie "Jackpot", did a lot of talking over pizza and coffee and today went to Tatton Park in Knutsford for a mooch around the 2000 acre deer park, gardens and house.
I will blog about all this tomorrow.
I will concentrate today's blog on my own personal experience of Finagle's Law... which can be translated thus:-
"If you own and care for animals.....something ALWAYS goes awry when you have a day away!"

Last night Chris texted me that Boris could not be located at shutting up time. He searched the field, no feathers, no typical chirping, there was no sign of the old turkey. In Manchester there was absolutely nothing I could do, so I let fate take it's toll until I got home this afternoon and I could check for myself.

Grace and Boris ( Brother and sister) when they arrived years ago

At around 5pm I found the old fella. He was hidden away in the long grass, dehydrated and collapsed. His left leg trailed uselessly by his side as if he had had a stroke and although he chirped quietly when he saw me, it was clear that he was not long for this world.
I rang the RFWF and asked if he could come to help. Dispatching chickens is one job I can do myself, although it is one final kindness that I hate carrying out.... dispatching Boris who has been with me since he was a poult, was absolutely another kettle of fish. Culling him would have to be done my someone who no only knew just how to humanely kill a big powerful bird but by someone who had no emotional investment in a bird who had shared bagels with me on cold winter days .

The RFWF was very kind. 
He showed me just how to "do the deed" from start to finish and minutes after he arrived, Boris was lying still in the long grass with the light Sussex bantams gazing carefully at the blood which splashed his neck and the long grass.
Finagle's Law for animal keepers eh?.......it never fails
I know I have 72 healthy animals but this feels bloody shite!