Squiffy On A Weekday

This afternoon I drove over to the Prof's university to help organise his new office. 

Of course  all I wanted to do was to personalise the academic feel of the place , which in fact, only took 10 minutes or so......

the Prof likes a somewhat ' austere" look.

Afterwards we went to Osborne House in Llandudno for tea ( we had our wedding supper there)......after a very passable starter of salt and pepper squid, calfs' liver for mains and three large glasses of white, Things seemed rather nice with the world. 

Me thinks I need an early night

Hic

The chandelier in the main Osborne house bar

Underdog

Sometimes an underdog lets rip.
Usually you can see such events on youtube.
Tonight, just before the start of the re run of The Walking Dead, underdog Scottish terrier, George
( the dog who has been last in the house pecking order all of his life ( and this includes the chickens, geese, sheep and pigs) finally asserted himself over the Mad- as- a- badger Mary during one of her " I'm going to rip your collar from around your neck" moments.
Mary had it coming.
For weeks she has ripped Winnie's cheeks without a murmur from the old bulldog and everyday William has put up with multiple nips and bites during some over the top horseplay, so tonight she pushed things too far and grabbed a mouthful of his Australian bandanna as he was minding his own business in the spare arm chair.
Nine year old George , with the lightening speed of a two year old, bounced off his chair and in a couple of seconds seriously kicked some Welsh Terrier puppy arse.
Mary wisely pretended to be dead as he effectively head butted her into the carpet.

Smiling I called him over to the sofa where he was ceremoniously lifted to top dog position, above Winnie, above William and above an astonished and now sulking Mary .........
He is there right now, smiling gently to himself as he sleeps the sleep of the just.
For once in his life George knows he's a hero

My favourite photo of George......a black dot flying above the beach

Everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end.

I've always thought that Margo Channing is a magnificent film character. Waspish, loyal, wise-cracking, vulnerable, petulent and totally believable this diva played with gleeful gusto by Bette Davis has always been my hero.

Who is your cinematic hero?
And why?

It's a blustery , no news day here in Trelawnyd.....time for a bit of frivolity me thinks.

Girly Nite

" You really need to take care of yourself" the Professor told me with a sigh recently.
I think he was making a point of things after I had used Mary's puppy shampoo to wash my hair. Or was it when he caught me going out with my pyjamas tucked underneath my trousers, anyhow it was some such event that prompted the comment.
Last night he decided that enough was enough and that drastic action was called for.
" Tonight" he informed me seriously ( over a cup of tea and slice of marks and spencers carrot cake) " we are doing girly things?"
My mind was boggled somewhat!
What were we going to do?
Have our nails done ? Colour our hair? ( what's left of it)
Watch a rom com in our dressing gowns whilst eating popcorn?
Get pissed on cheap white wine?

Oh no, the Professor had something more riveting and special in store!

Facial beauty wraps! 

Yeah........

It was a big job

Use It Or Lose It

This afternoon, I bumped into the chairman of our community council

He was hand delivering leaflets around the entire village.

He has been a big supporter of saving our village post office and has been intrumental in 

Having a service, albeit a single afternoon service, reinstated to the village.

Unfortuately only a few villagers have utilized the service

so a few slap bottoms are in order here

as I call all Trelawnyd-ites to get off their arses and USE THE POST OFFICE! 

It's open on Monday Afternoon between 1.30 and 3.30 pm

Janet and John

Facebook , at the moment is asking people to post old photos of themselves

So why doesn't blogger do the same?

Here's my photo

Janet and John go to primary school

I look like a thunderbird doll

In Praise of House Carers

Sometimes, when challenged with another  dollop of animal product , The Professor will bellow out a lusty  " I'm sick of living in this midden"
It's only recently when I found out that a midden is a " pile of kitchen waste"
I've been scrubbing and cleaning for three solid hours now and still, I don't feel as though I've made a dent.
20 individual pet feet, a rain sodden village, a real and sooty fire and a small cottage all seem to conspire against a home which could spring out of the pages of " Homes and Gardens" .
I've just cleaned the fluff from under our bed and found a mummified mouse amid the debris.
Yeah, like I said, the entrants of "Hello" Magazine don't have these problems.

The low point of all this elbow grease occurred just as I was scrubbing away a rather tenacious " mark" from the toilet bowl. Winnie, who was keeping me company as I worked was suddenly caught short and peed like a horse on the toilet pedestal mat soaking both my knees.
I had to forgive her, as she is presently suffering from " in season frequency"
Yes, we do indeed have a toilet pedestal mat! How very 1970!

Where does the fluff under the bed actually come from ?
And the dirty hairs under the bathroom radiator pipes?
Why do the windows constantly look dirty even though I've just cleaned them
And WHY HAS ALBERT WALKED OVER THE COOKER TOP  WITH SHITTY FEET YET AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! 20 MINUTES AFTER I'VE JUST DONE IT?

I was wiping down the paintwork in the living room where William rubs him itchy bum when the postman knocked on the window. He waved a package cheerfully at me and as I opened the window
he chirped up with an irritating " a woman's work is never done " comment
Anyhow the package was in fact an original painting by Jill Chandler!
I've put it on show after polishing the dust clouds from the living room side table.

I've just written this in a twenty minute coffee break 

Sat at the kitchen table.

And from this vantage point

I can see two peas, an old fork, a mass of fluff and a crust of bread down the side of the cooker

Hey ho

The Revenant ( spoilers!)

Ouch!

 With all of the internet ballyhoo about DiCaprio latest survivalist movie The Revenant, I thought I would brace myself and go and see the three hour revenge fest.
Armed with a coffee and a smuggled in M&S scotch egg, I thought I was prepared for this epic set in the bleak mid western wilderness of 1823.
I wasn't.
From the stunning and totally visceral Indian attack of the opening few minutes, it was very clear that The Revenant is a very raw and demanding movie. It grabs you with some of the most stunning visuals I have ever seen captured on film, then throttles you with relentless drama, and nailbiting tension . There is no let up for three whole hours
The story is a simple one of revenge.
A large group of fur trappers are massacred by indians searching for a chief's lost daughter. The survivors are led by scout Hugh Glass ( DiCaprio) and his indian son Hawk ( Forrest Goodyear) but
an attack by a bear leaves Glass critically injured and causes upset  in the trappers' ranks as the
men argue whether or not to leave Glass in the wilderness.
One of the most belligerent trappers John Fitzgerald ( Tom Hardy) kills Hawk and abandons Glass and the film chronicles Glass' near impossible struggle against the elements, marauding indians,  stomach churning physical injuries , starvation and grief.
Fucking hell, it was all bloody too much.
The bear attack, alone made me drop my second scotch egg in surprise for it is the most intensely shocking and horrific sequence I have ever seen in my 45 years of regular cinema going.
I could hardly watch the screen it was that " bad"

DiCaprio is impressive as the driven and perpetually suffering Glass, it's a remarkable and physically demanding performance for sure , but , for me , it's Tom Hardy's brutal Fitzgerald that grabbed my attention more. It's a performance of some charm, depth and understandable harshness.

The director, Alejandro Inarritu, has produced an undeniably beautiful movie, as every scene of The Revenant is crafted and framed like a painting but this tale of revenge and survival is, in my opinion, a good hour too long.
It's a case of too much misery for one Welshman to adequately cope with on a rainy Thursday afternoon.
8/10