lazy blog today
Who was your first cinematic/tv crush?
Mine?
Clint Walker
Who was your first cinematic/tv crush?
Mine?
Clint Walker
Brain Storm
The broiler " ghost" hens sunbathing
We take so many things for granted.
Last night I watched a Sky documentary which was rather ho-hum
The presenter, however, did allow himself , a moment of gushing, after a group of India women, resplendent in their multi coloured saris, walked into view upon a barren and sunbaked landscape and his emotional reaction to such a visual experience proved to be a rather moving experience.
Here are a few of mine, brainstormed during a wet and cold walk this morning
- Being present at scores of patient deathbeds, watching a fellow human being taking their last breath on this planet.
- Looking at Sheffield's Skyline on a cold night from the roof of the city's Cancer Hospital
- Witnessed four hens corner, attack and subsequently kill a crow who had been stealing their layers pellets.
- watched twins being delivered by emergency Cesarean section.
- Winked at by a handsome Yorkshire policeman when he was on duty
- Taking in the vast and graceful Sydney Harbour for the first time on a sunny Sunday afternoon
- Sitting through a maths class as a giggling twelve year old in front of busty Mrs Fielding who had two buttons of her blouse undone.
- Driving into New York City at night for the first time.
- Watching an emergency doctor perform internal cardiac massage
- Being the only human watching four dogs galloping happily on an empty beach
- Over an hour lying in warm grass, watching six abused factory broiler hens finally leaving their hen house ,to sun bathe for the very first time.
- Seeing my husband smiling so uncharacteristically during the entirety of our wedding.
My New Co Pilot
Eighteen months ago Meg died.
I spent more time with her than I did with my husband and her absence literally broke my heart as we all know that hearts can so easily be damaged by the all encompassing love only a dog can give a master.
The Prof saw the void that Meg left and like all concerned husbands who wanted to heal an awful situation, he was galvanised in the attempt to fill it with the impulse purchase of a new puppy.
Mary subsequently arrived with a bang.
A year later, I now have a new co pilot.
When I sit in a chair, she is by my side in a heartbeat. When I have a bath, she stands guard at the bathroom door and when she gets the chance, after the first dog walk at dawn, she curls up into the lie-in bed, her face tucked up under my chin like a baby rabbit with it's mother.
Of course all this says more about me, than it does about her.
For I am never alone, even when I am enjoying a satisfying number two with the paper.
I spent more time with her than I did with my husband and her absence literally broke my heart as we all know that hearts can so easily be damaged by the all encompassing love only a dog can give a master.
The Prof saw the void that Meg left and like all concerned husbands who wanted to heal an awful situation, he was galvanised in the attempt to fill it with the impulse purchase of a new puppy.
Mary subsequently arrived with a bang.
A year later, I now have a new co pilot.
When I sit in a chair, she is by my side in a heartbeat. When I have a bath, she stands guard at the bathroom door and when she gets the chance, after the first dog walk at dawn, she curls up into the lie-in bed, her face tucked up under my chin like a baby rabbit with it's mother.
Of course all this says more about me, than it does about her.
For I am never alone, even when I am enjoying a satisfying number two with the paper.
A " Field Of Dreams " Moment
My family often nag me to amalgamate the better parts of Going Gently into some sort of bestselling paperback. The Prof says whimsy sells, and I guess he is right given the plethora of " heartwarming" and " uplifting" tales of life changing encounters middle aged pongos like myself experience when lifestyles change and temple hair is lightening from brunette to a gentle grey.
On the way to the panto the other night, my sister remembered what I call a " Field of Dreams" moment which she said would be a " Satisfying " denouement to the chapter where two middle aged gays first moved into a tight knit Welsh village!
Nine years ago, I held my very first " allotment open evening" It was on the back of similar open evenings my sister organised at her own town allotment, where friends and family had the opportunity to survey her vegetable beds, have tea and cake and make a contribution of a charity of her choice.
My first allotment open was a small affair, but it was important to me as I left several hopeful posters around the village inviting everyone to attend. Attendance by the Trelawnyd-ites meant everything and as the 6 pm opening deadline loomed close, My sister remembered me gazing up the lane in a sudden downpour of summer rain, worried that no one would come.
I should not have worried ...for the " Field Of Dreams " moment arrived as powerfully as anything ever seen in a sentimental movie or tv series! the only thing that was bloody lacking was a sudden swelling of a musical score, for at exactly 6 pm and led by Auntie Glad hidden underneath an oversized umbrella, a long line of village characters weaved their way down the Church lane towards the field to support the event.
It was a real Hollywood moment amid the wet grass and Slightly damp Victoria sponges.
Perhaps, my sister is right. It is these kind of moments balanced with the sadness of those normal life dramas that make a story readable and accessible to all. Light and froth peppered with emotional romps......perhaps that is the formula..
Anyway over to you all.....you all, like me, have a book inside you......if you eventually write it, what would be your " Field Of Dreams" moment?
I'd be interested to know.
On the way to the panto the other night, my sister remembered what I call a " Field of Dreams" moment which she said would be a " Satisfying " denouement to the chapter where two middle aged gays first moved into a tight knit Welsh village!
Nine years ago, I held my very first " allotment open evening" It was on the back of similar open evenings my sister organised at her own town allotment, where friends and family had the opportunity to survey her vegetable beds, have tea and cake and make a contribution of a charity of her choice.
My first allotment open was a small affair, but it was important to me as I left several hopeful posters around the village inviting everyone to attend. Attendance by the Trelawnyd-ites meant everything and as the 6 pm opening deadline loomed close, My sister remembered me gazing up the lane in a sudden downpour of summer rain, worried that no one would come.
I should not have worried ...for the " Field Of Dreams " moment arrived as powerfully as anything ever seen in a sentimental movie or tv series! the only thing that was bloody lacking was a sudden swelling of a musical score, for at exactly 6 pm and led by Auntie Glad hidden underneath an oversized umbrella, a long line of village characters weaved their way down the Church lane towards the field to support the event.
It was a real Hollywood moment amid the wet grass and Slightly damp Victoria sponges.
Perhaps, my sister is right. It is these kind of moments balanced with the sadness of those normal life dramas that make a story readable and accessible to all. Light and froth peppered with emotional romps......perhaps that is the formula..
Anyway over to you all.....you all, like me, have a book inside you......if you eventually write it, what would be your " Field Of Dreams" moment?
I'd be interested to know.
" Twelve O' Clock and No Sign Of Dick!"
Theatre Clwyd Panto Aladdin.......great fun.....even the Prof got up and danced at the end!
I'm running late today.
The dog walk around the village took over an hour this morning, as numerous encounters meant numerous chats along the lines of how was Your Christmas ? and What did you do for New Year's Eve?
"Odd Bob" wanted to know about The Avian Flu Threat, which was a nice change and it took me ten minues to go through the plot of Theatre Clwyd's Aladdin with villager Mandy over on the village Green so much so that Winnie got overly bored, slipped her collar and started to walk home by herself.
She's such a Diva....
And before you all shriek with worry...I must say I don't worry about Winnie and traffic, for she has actually learnt that she can only cross the main road when she hears the Pelican Crossing alarm! No alarm no crossing......
She's brighter than she looks!
I am presently making a lamb gravy for homemade Shepherds' Pie for supper. Then it's " Operation Christmas Decoration Removal followed by the bathing of the Welsh terriers (post kennels).
Work has asked me to go in for an extra shift........
I've told them nicely to bugger off.
Back to normal
Three hours sleep and now I am about to dunk my sorry arse into the bath before a family meal and the panto in Theatre Clwyd.
I need amphetamines,
But Mrs Trellis has no doubt run out.......
Speak tomorrow when things are back to normal......the Prof will be at work happily whipping the local academics into shape and the dogs and I will be home in Trelawnyd
Hey ho
I need amphetamines,
But Mrs Trellis has no doubt run out.......
Speak tomorrow when things are back to normal......the Prof will be at work happily whipping the local academics into shape and the dogs and I will be home in Trelawnyd
Hey ho
Selfie
A quick New Year's selfie
Believe me we didnt look like this by the end of the shift!
So dont expect any replies to comments
Im buggered!
Are You Sitting Comfortably ?
I'm working night shift tonight and tomorrow night
New Year's Eve will be a non event for me which is fine.
I will leave you with a short story...
This Christmas the Prof and I thought it nice to share some moody stories in front of the new log burner. To be honest he made a bit of a show, of just how wonderful, a different " activity" would be during this rather quiet shadow of the Christmas Holiday.
I fancied reading out Daphne DuMaurier's short story of The Birds but the Prof wanted a Gothic murder mystery!
The night before last he read out an strange little tale about Ghosts in a Country Hall and last night I agreed to read a somewhat odd 1950 s short story called The Santa Claus Club.
I thought it was a rather nice couple thing to do.
Last night, I walked the dogs at nine and we settled down in front of the fire for me to read out the scary tale of murder most horrid.
The story was longer than expected, but I persevered with the verbose text in subdued lighting!
25 minutes into the story, I stopped briefly to cough ...............and saw my husband fast asleep on the couch!
Hey ho!
Happy new Year dearhearts!
New Year's Eve will be a non event for me which is fine.
I will leave you with a short story...
This Christmas the Prof and I thought it nice to share some moody stories in front of the new log burner. To be honest he made a bit of a show, of just how wonderful, a different " activity" would be during this rather quiet shadow of the Christmas Holiday.
I fancied reading out Daphne DuMaurier's short story of The Birds but the Prof wanted a Gothic murder mystery!
The night before last he read out an strange little tale about Ghosts in a Country Hall and last night I agreed to read a somewhat odd 1950 s short story called The Santa Claus Club.
I thought it was a rather nice couple thing to do.
Last night, I walked the dogs at nine and we settled down in front of the fire for me to read out the scary tale of murder most horrid.
The story was longer than expected, but I persevered with the verbose text in subdued lighting!
25 minutes into the story, I stopped briefly to cough ...............and saw my husband fast asleep on the couch!
Hey ho!
Happy new Year dearhearts!
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