Winnie's watching

Winnie Watching!
I mentioned this in my post of yesterday morning but my words were lost in the internet fog that sometimes overwhelms blog land
I am repeating the phenomenomen today!
Last night Winnie did " the thing"
At ten - ish pm , when I am watching crap copper chopper tv , she got down heavily from her arm chair to sit at my feet.
There she sat.
She sat and watched , her gaze never leaving my face with the big brown sad eyes of the Mona Lisa
I am always moved by this behaviour.
She demanded nothing.
No head pat  no belly rub , no word of encouragement , all she wants to do is to sit and watch .
Like Miss Marple crossed with Buddha.
I wonder what is going on in that fat bulldog brain of hers.
But I think its just her touching base.
She wants to check that I am there, as I have always been.
A bulldog psychological hug so to speak.

Those big sad brown eyes

Thank You

We need another 20 or so veg/ fruit entries to fill the Memorial Hall noticeboards

Please Keep em coming xxxx

jgsheffield@hotmail.com

Gill's choir! 

Thank you Susannah for your no publicity tomato 

Song

Wrote a post
Posted it
And now its gone!
Cannot be bothered re writing it
So will post mine and the Prof's song
Enjoy

I'm Just One Crazy Bitch!

To illustrate yesterday's post I put the words Prestatyn High School 1970s, or something similar into google images. Not finding what I wanted, I scrolled down the pages until I spied this old newspaper photo image tucked away in the internet photobook.

It's a publicity shot of the North Wales rock band Resistance which was published in The News Of The World newspaper circa 1974 and yes the band were " playing" their motley set of instruments in the nude. My brother Andrew is sat rather coyly behind his drum kit and little did he know that the fallout from this silly stunt would have drastic ramifications for his ultra " respectable " father who was high up in Prestatyn council life at the time.
The shame was palpable .
Looking back on it all, in these days of celebrity bad behaviour, the whole thing now looks rather lightweight, but it kind of illustrates the fact that my brother was a bit of a wild child in beige covered life of 1970s Wales.
For a few years in his late teens/ early twenties my brother sowed his wild oats. He drank and dabbled with drugs. He toured Germany in a music van and he shared a flat in a rough part of Rhyl. He wore his hair long and " used home as a hotel" as we, his younger siblings by a decade wore our school uniforms straight and went to bed early after Coronation Street.

I never sowed any wild oats in my late teens and twenties, I just wasn't the sort.
You need to be reckless and excited and free and confident to be a wild Child
I was gauche, and shy and awkward and boring
I was Saffie  out of Absolutely Fabulous. My brother was more like Patsy .

So ...I am long overdue for a wild period me thinks! . Perhaps one day, I will get a tattoo and dress too young. Perhaps one day I'll trash a hotel room and shag a rent boy in a rubber suit  or smoke a joint from start to finish in a stolen car whist being chased by a police helicoptor.
Don't hold your breath eh?

Lets hear your " wild child " stories Everyone

Miss Betts

Never underestimate the power of praise..

I was perhaps fourteen or fifteen and was sat at my desk in an English lesson reading a chapter of The Catcher In The Rye" 
The teacher, Miss Betts,  was marking essays at her own desk in the corner by the window. She was a kind of a hippy-type character. long hair, long floaty skirts. Flat Chest, ethnic jewelry.
She was a serious teacher. Earnest and never, as I recall, happy looking.

Anyhow, after a long period of silence , she sighed and spoke out to the class
"John Gray, I am impressed with a simile you have just used in your essay!

" The summer sun flowed through the dining room windows and warmed the house like a hand shake on a cold day"
She didn't look up from her marking and the rest of the class didn't react that much to her comment, but for me, that snippet of public praise made me feel ten foot tall!

That was 40 years ago. And I still remember it as if it was yesterday.

Old " Friends"

Everyday I visit old friends
I say hello after checking the only non grassed grave in the graveyard
The grave Albert has visited in the middle of the night.
Sylvia who ran the Flower Show with such a hypertensive strength lies with her husband a dozen rows from the Red Faced Welsh Farmer who has fresh geraniums by his headstone. Gwyneth from Pen-y-cefn Isa Farm ( the 80 year old who used to stand proudly on the back of Ralph the gentleman farmer's tractor ) is a little to the left, her headstone is all in Welsh.
I say hello to them all.
I also say hello to the ones I feel I know but never  met.
Miss B A Jones ( Bessie Bryn Teg) the schoolmistress who used to rule the village school children with an iron fist  lies with her sister Ginny Bryn Teg ( who used to own the cow!) Old Norman Roberts who did so much for village affairs.  and 16 year old Edwina , Auntie Glad's daughter who died after a  car accident up in Lloc.
Further back there are the Hannah Jones' , Parrys and Williams' ........Teddy, beloved young son of Ann and William, and Elias Jones who was killed in the mining accident in Gronant in 1890...2000 people came to his funeral .....2000!
In a odd way they all feel a little like friends...
Am I strange?

Mandatory Training

I'm sitting at the kitchen table early this morning drinking coffee.....the Prof is away and I have to go into work to complete mandatory training. In my day, mandatory training was always done in work time.
Not anymore!
Hey ho....Trendy Carol has just passed the window ( Laura Ashley Coat, frilly blouse, skinny jeans and pumps) and Terry from the flower show passed earlier. He gave me his best " I see you"  eye poke thing......the rivalry in the Great Trelawnyd Bake Off  continues.
I will leave you with a video to watch today.
I took it last night as I rested my croc feet.
Watch carefully....it's a play fight between baby Hippo and little dog.
The baby hippo pulls her punches so well

The Great British Sewing Bee

The latest series of The Great British Sewing Bee  has been ever so slightly lacklustre only because most of the characters involved have not been that interesting tv fodder.
The winner , Charlotte made a late spurt in the interest stakes by making her final model the step mom of her kids......how so very Hollywood!
Bring back the Bake Off