Village News

Sandra on her allotment in the centre of the village,

The left part of the house behind her is auntie Glad's

The Prof is working this morning at campus so as the day resembles the greyness that Rachel loves so much in urban Russia, I am presently catching up with blog reading, the national news and  a good coffee.
Autumn is here and as so happens in Trelawnyd, the village seems to be shutting down for the winter.
Affable despot Jason has already told me that he will see me in the spring.
" I hibernate in the winter" he told me just the other day. His daughters were selling homemade bracelets at their garden gate at the time and Liv gave me one for the Prof.
That will umph his street cred with the younger undergraduates!

Sandra C knocked on our door yesterday. She was all breathless and giggly and reminded me of a cross between Felicity Kendal and and young Joanna Lumley.
Sandra is perhaps the nicest person in Trelawnyd.
She had tied her new pug to the gate where he stood smiling broadly at me.
Trust Sandra to have an equally happy and sweet natured dog.

" I 'm organising a Christmas fayre in the village hall in December and don't know what to do"  she gasped. Apparently the hall is in need of some decoration and funds need to be raised, she had offered and already she had some ideas for the music, a father Christmas,.......could I tell her about the legalities of raffle tickets, who could do the  food? was she allowed cream on the mince pies and could I introduce the singing school children....seeing that I could make a speech at the opening of a fridge door?. ......it all came out in a rush!
As a trained Samaritan, I found it pretty easy to calm things down and sent her away with some helpful  information, and the promise that I would galvanise a few volunteers to " do the refreshments"
" delegate key jobs" I told her " and have a jumble table in one corner......tat always sells"

Anyway for locals that may read going gently the fayre will take place on the 3rd of December....
If you have any further ideas to help out, donations for the raffle, offers of volunteering etc please contact a slightly stressed and goggle eyed Sandra at her house on Llys Mostyn.

My coffee has gone cold, but I like it that way....Albert is play fighting with Mary as the sun comes out, and the cottage bursts into light and life

Right, I'll go now, Saturdays are always low blogger reader days and so a long rambling blog entry is sometimes a waste of time, but I wanted to welcome the new commentators and visitors to Going Gently who numbers seemed to have increased recently. Ive only got 61 followers to go to shamelessly reach my 1000 ( and then I can die happy)
" I can't believe that so many people read your shit" one of my fellow nurses playfully commentated recently. " Old ladies, birds in tin cans, and homos... I just don't see the appeal "

" people enjoy a funny fairytale " I told her
" You're sooo gay" she told me back.

First Time

As promised...the Prof when we first met

Handsome boy!

Paperwork

It's a wet and miserable Friday.
Apart from the usual chores and my weekly Auntie Glad visit, I've been thinking of what else to do today.
I have decieded on " spring cleaning" our paperwork.
Now the kitchen table is awash with files, bills, photographs, old cards, certificates, receipts, memorabilia and officialdom.
The important and the rubbish, all retrieved from drawers, from the old wooden writing slope of the Prof's that I've never opened, from gaps in the book shelves and from the little arts and crafts desk standing in the living room by the stairs.

I note that most of the photographs are older ones, now we reply on icloud and laptops to store our memories.
They feature me with a waist and the Prof with hair.
Wedding cards wrapped in ribbon. Orders of service from ten funerals. Old school reports, University   assignments from a film degree course - marks all over 70%! Dog pedigrees, nursing peformance reviews. A black bordered card from Ethel Kennedy thanking my mother for her card of condolence, my father's wartime identity card.
Birth certificates, death certificates, certificates and more certificates.

The history of two lives. Sorted into piles on the kitchen table.

Note To Self..........

Note to self.........
When sneaking off for a relaxing 15 minutes in order to listen to a podcast of The Archers in a hot, soapy bath.
Always shut the bathroom door.

Memories

The Prof is away from home again.

So tonight I have a date with a nice bowl of noodles, a low fat chocolate pudding and The Great British Bake Off followed by tv police porn The Force.

I manage very well on my own, which is a positive given the fact the Prof seems to be away so much, but I found myself thinking about him  after hearing Diana Damrau belting out the "Queen of the night"  aria on the radio today.
We held hands briefly when we heard it being performed at the New York Met many years ago. 

It still makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up

Even if it is a ditty about murder! 

Fads

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-37606220

At 12.58am I stopped at the petrol station on the way home from my shift to buy bread and a sneaky bar of chocolate.
The checkout guy was being interviewed by a policeman when I got there
Apparently, half an hour previously a clown in a boiler suit had walked carefully up to the payment window and had waved a " bloodstained " cardboard knife at him before walking very slowly away.

I put the central locking on when I drove away, and ran down a very dark path like a teenage girl when I got home

Morning Walk

I met an Australian woman today, she was called Helen and she hailed from the wonderful sounding city of Bunbury which she reliably told me was a good cycle journey south of Perth.
Ellen was cycling around Britain. She had survived a bout of cancer, had recently divorced her husband of twenty five years and was hoping to write an account of her "adventures" here in the UK
I gleaned this much about her within two minutes of meeting her.
She wasn't a shy  gal.
I asked her if she had experienced many "adventures" in Wales so far and she laughed lustily
" It's all been a bit dull" she confided " But that's the Welsh for you!"
Her next port of call she told me, was Chester, then she was hoping to cycle up towards the Lake District, before experiencing Scotland.

All this took place on the local cycle/walkway and our conversation started after She had asked me if she could photograph the dogs three of whom where sat quietly with me on a bench overlooking a view of the coast. She had lost her dog in the divorce she told me " but had kept the house!"

Another couple of cyclists joined then stopped and were ushered into her conversation so I left them to it. Before I moved on, however, she asked if I wanted a copy of the photos so I gave her my email address and wished her well.
When I got home, two photos were already waiting for me.

The Girl On The Train

The Girl On The Train is an interesting movie that on the surface just looks like a classy, well made and rather clever whodunnit, which of course, it is.
This mystery drama, however is so much more as it is essentially the story of three women, who all are on a circular kind of story which may be subtitled  " I 'm not the girl I used to be"
It's the tag line which bookends the entire movie.
All three characters embark on life changing ( and in one's case life ending) journeys which centre around grief, depression, self deception and addiction themes so much more interesting than the usual murder thriller......
I cannot say much about the storylines, without spoiling the whole piece, suffice to say the movie is totally owned  by Emily Blunt as lead character Rachel, an unsympathetic alcoholic on a self destructive and psychologically needy romp.
It's a performance worthy of an Oscar nomination for sure.
8/10