I Have Never

I 've never cried at a funeral! 

This revelation came to me this morning after I recalled reading that Hitler loved watching Snow White and the seven Dwarfs
Both facts to me are mildly surprising, especially as I always thought that Hitler was more of a Gone With The Wind kind of guy!
Anyhow, as usual I digress

Yes, I have never cried at a funeral.
I have never found myself naked in pubic either, which, when you think of it , is more or less the same thing!
I also have have been called to Jury service, which is a real pisser! I have always thought I would rather suit than linen jacket Henry Fonda kept taking on and off in Twelve Angry Men.

I have never eaten Haggis or oysters !
Or ever had  fight in the street.
and I have never once been on a protest march and waved a suitably ribald placard at the authorities!

I have never slept in a tent or had a shit in the woods
And I have not seen a hedgehog close up since I was 13!

I have never read Dickens, Proust or Chekhov

I have never been to Madame Tussauds, The Tower Of London or The Royal Albert Hall.
And  have never waltzed with gay abandon on the sprung floor of the Blackpool dance ballroom!

I never said " I love you" to my parents. And I never heard them utter the phrase back  to me

And I have never cried at a funeral!

Paysanne

The Prof and I found a rather delightful restaurant this evening.
The food was unfussy and very tasty and the front-of-house host interestingly quirky with his somewhat unusual tableside delivery. He reminded me of a cross between a posh Russell Brand, John Cleese and Terry Thomas 
When asked why the restaurant had an obituary of the hell-raiser Oliver Reed on the toilet wall, he replied with a wave of his hand and a breezy " It makes for an interesting read!" and when The Prof asked if he could add the tip on the card machine our host apologised describing the rules for not doing so as " positively Orwellian!" 
What fun!

I've nothing much to say today! 

The Ghosts Of Boyfriends Past!

The room felt oppressive .
The walls were painted badly in the primary colours of the Brazil flag. Garish Yellow, Green and  Navy blue. With strange " tropical " symbols clumsily hand painted over the yellow borders around the tall old fashioned victorian windows.
Curtains with cheap gold tassles were hung around those windows and an immersion tank hidden next to the fireplace and in each dark corner, at ceiling height, a fat gold painted cherub looked down on the flimsy ikea bed set against one wall.

I hated that room.

I hated it with a vengeance .
I hated it as it was the Prof's bedroom when I met him.
I hated it as it was decorated by his previous, much younger partner.
A partner who obviously had no taste whatsoever, but whose ghost lived on in every badly painted piece of woodwork and smudged gold effect stencil!
My first morning there, after we woke up, I started as I meant to go on!
As the Prof prepared coffee and french pastries in the kitchen
I found one of my shoes under a pile of clothes on the floor,
And knocked every soddin cherub off the wall before he came back to bed with a tray!

Watching

I think blogland is suffering from a Febuary bout of writer's Block. 
I blame the short dark days of winter coupled with small doses of apathy and a post adrenalin drop following surges experienced with the crowning of Trump!
Perhaps we are all feeling rather jaded with all of this demonstrating
Or is it more likely that fuck all is happening in our lives ?

On this morning's power walk Mary and I sat on the broken stone wall overlooking  Basil's sheep fields and the valley East of the village and looked out at the view. Welsh terriers love to sit and watch, so we sat and watched for an absolute age.
I day dreamed about having a new kitchen. Mary sat with her own deep doggy thoughts.
She was so preoccupied thay she didn't notice Mrs Trellis and Blue walking up the hill behind us. Mrs Trellis' bobble hat was sticking straight up as usual! She looks like Noddy!

Thank You

......thank you Eirlys
The gift of a dozen of your free range eggs ( all be them from a huge barn) was a lovely gesture today.
I gave you a hug which threw you slightly!
But it made my day
I miss my hens

All That We Share

I was surfing youtube as I was soaking George's klingons off under the kitchen sink's mixer tap this morning. 

I can't remember if I used the sponge pan scourer or not! 

But I digress! 

This video from Denmark Tv came up on my you may like this  section . I stopped short with the nail sissors to watch it.

It's rather beautiful

I sent it to Donald Trump 

I do hope he watched it

Guilt

We have had emotions today....have we not?
Grief ( post 1)
Horror ( post 2)
And now post 3 = guilt

The Prof is at some posh meal in London
And on the way home after Sams this evening
I bought and devoured a scotch egg almost without chewing!

Be still my fucking beating heart!!!!!!