“Give me a girl at an impressionable age and she is mine for life.”

I saw her in Marks and Spencers.
A rather chic woman in her middle sixties with fashionably cut grey hair.

I recognised her immediately.
She was my biology teacher at school.
Vaguely I remembered as a teacher, she was an efficient but rather distant individual,  but it was seeing her that sparked a memory not of her way back in Prestatyn High School in 1974 but of her husband who my English teacher
Her husband had the rather odd nickname of  " smiler" as I remember and I recall one small kindness he afforded me as a boy of twelve when I was bullied in one rather awful moment of childhood cruelty.
I loved my English classes and was a bit of buttoned up swot at every lesson, so occasionally provided a butt of the joke for several of the thicker and more disruptive boys.
One day, just before class one of those boys broke my newly bought ink pen by jamming the nib into the desktop.
It was a nasty little moment of destruction which was aimed to hurt..and hurt it did.
As class started, and biting away tears , I remember Smiler starting the lesson which was for us to write a précis  of the novel " A Kestrel for a Knave" and as he walked up and down the line of desks he gave us instructions of what he wanted of us to do.
As he passed my desk, and without comment he reached into his pocket and pulled out his own rather smart ball-point pen which he placed quietly before me.
The lesson carried on as normal.
It was a kindness that meant so very much to a twelve year old boy.

At the end of the lesson, as Smiler was stacking the novels into piles, I stopped at his desk and offered him his pen back.
" Keep it" he said giving me a slight nod of his head

Who was your special teacher?

Women's Problems!

The Prof runs a large and by all accounts successful University department with consummate ease.
The large stuff  he copes with.
My mind literally boggles with the scope of it all.
He doesn't , however, deal with the small stuff that well.
" I'm living in a midden!" He bellowed.
It was 5.45 am and he was boiling his breakfast eggs.
I could see his point. Winnie suffering from a bit of post op bladder weakness and had left a couple of puddles on the kitchen floor, puddles of which were added to by Mary who looks as though she is entering her first major season.
There was pee everywhere!
William, blind as a bat, walked merrily though the puddles!
" FILTH! FILTH EVERYWHERE!" The Prof bellowed some more.
His day was getting off to a dreadful start

I reached for the kitchen roll.


   

The Walking Dead Episode 12

At last we have a slower episode and it worked so well!
Date night!
Michonne and Rick have some quality time, find guns, find their relationship's depth and have a few laughs along the way.
It's an clever moment in time.
Apart from the playfull humour there are flashbacks to older, and sadder episodes here....Glen on the dumpster, the survivor battle in the supermarket, death scenes of numerous old characters, but Michonne and Rick win through in a wisecracking , uplifting and rather romantic honeymoon moment.
This story is bookended by a worrying Thelma and Louise moment as Rosita teams up with Sasha in what could be a suicide bid to kill Negan.....
But it made the audience take breath, revert to The Walking Dead of old, and reconnect to the characters
A great episode!

Marriage Two Years On

In a 'recent' interview, the artist David Hockney made it clear that he thought that too many gay men are now determined to lead boring ordinary married lives. I can understand ( but not agree) where he is coming from, for I suspect he feels that some gay men are losing their queer slightly subversive
edge in an attempt to be part of the mainstream.
I see things slightly differently.

Two years ago today we got married.
We got married  because we wanted to.
We wanted to publicly declare our relationship.
We wanted to celebrate that fact with our families and our friends
We wanted to, be married in the eyes of the law of the land with all of the legal benefits that allows us

We wanted to have the same rights afforded to every straight couple.
And we wanted to dress up and wear shiny shoes!

Our marriage also unearthed interesting feelings that we did not expect.
Days before the wedding, cards of congratulations and gifts started to appear. A bottle of champagne here, a bunch of flowers there. Hundreds of cards, scores of gifts, money and good wishes arrived and they overwhelmed us because neither the Prof  and I expected anything.
We didn't expect anything because, I suspect deep down, we didn't really felt that we deserved  anything. Weddings were for straights, and not for middle aged old poofs like us. It's a subconscious idea that we thought only existed in the minds of bigots.
And we and the " actors of the piece" we actually thinking it! 
Auntie Glad, in her own morally right way of looking at things made it clear as she dropped off a card and a wedding present " It's the law of the land! " she observed simply.
A 96 year old, a devout christian getting on with a huge change of thinking because common sense told her so.
If she could get her head around things, we could, I remember thinking.

The wedding was lovely. It was lovely because it felt right.
It was right for us and it was right legally
And morally it felt right. 

And if that's us selling our gay, subversive side?
So be it.
I never had a subversive side anyhow

Hey ho!

Movie Chatter

In a former episode of the BBC documentary Who Do You Think You Are? the journalist Anita Rani explored her family's experiences of the partition of India. It was a moving piece of television for it underlined the chaos , violence and misery the forced migrations of the Sikh, Muslim and Hindu populations as Pakistan was forged out of the India subcontinent.
The " story" how Lord Moutbatten oversaw this move to independence has recently been made into a film.The  Viceroy's House, which we had the misfortune to sit through last night, is an attempt to show the human side of " Partition" through the experiences of the Indian staff who served the British hoi polloi.
Directed by Gurinda Chadra, the whole thing feels like a awkward mash up of Downton Abbey  with a Bollywood  melodrama as the Indian actors seem to overplay the drama whilst actors such as Gillian Anderson ( playing a rather forward thinking Lady Moutbatten) underplay beautifully.
And one is left feeling that the melodrama portrayed by the servants rather trivialised the real and very terrible tragedy Partition brought to two new nations.

The dishy Manish Dayal with Huma Queresi 

The Prof harrumphed his way through The Viceroy's House and shook his head when this trailer was shown just before the main feature

Described thus
"A Dog's Purpose" shares the soulful and surprising story of one devoted dog who finds the meaning of his own existence through the lives of the humans he teaches to laugh and love." 
The Prof could see me sobbing within the first minute and said gruffly
" Not one for you then"
I agreed

Anyhow to finish we have gay Disney! What a palaver over Gaston's fat little Queen side kick Le Frou! It's all been too much about nothing ,especially as the Russians have got their knickers in a
twist about it.......what no one seems to realise that Le Frou is the second gay character in Disney
No one has mentioned Ursula from The Little Mermaid! 
Now if she wasn't a fucking drag queen my dick's a kipper!

Hey ho! 

Flex Them Muscles!

The Prof has just gone to the gym for a 1:1 session with the fitness coach.
No doubt his mentor is a buff 22 year old called Luke who has thighs like tree trunks.
I 'm not jealous of a gym bunny no older than a pair of my socks.
I've got staying power.

Without the Prof around for an hour the cottage is quiet. The radio has been turned off and the windows opened to the sunshine and the crows bickering in the Church trees.
I've got my coffee, the dogs have been walked and fed and it's time to sit and think.

I spoke to a guy this morning who lost his wife suddenly. She had been ill for sure, and I suspect was expected to die at some point but he lost her when he and I expect she was not ready.
He knows I am a nurse and asked me questions I was in no way in a position to answer but what I could share was the simple fact that younger people compensate for their disease or their condition when they are poorly, so often deteriorate quickly and drastically when their reserves fail them.
Sometimes, no mater what is done nothing can change the final outcome.

The man shook my hand firmly after our conversation. I don't know if it was my words that helped or just the chance for him to ask the question that gave him some comfort.
Grief needs an outlet me thinks.

When he drove off, I realised that I didn't even know his name.

As I type this Bulldog and Welsh terrier bitch, 

Share a place in the sun

She's Home!

I knew things were going to be alright when I walked into the vets at teatime tonight.
Winnie was holding court behind the reception desk with the office staff and vets alike.
She was lapping up the attention like Bette Davis at a cocktail party!
" She has quite a fan club here" the Sweet receptionist told me
"And one around the world too!" I told her explaining Going Gently
" A dog on a blog" one of the vets chirped up.

Winnie saw me and sashayed over to say hello,moments later she led me to the exit with an impressively powerful pull. She wanted to go home.


And home we came.

Getting Picked Last For Games.

We need a change of subject today.....it's all been a bit too much....an emotional vet based jacuzzi .
I will post " Winnie News" later but for now we shall talk about the knotty subject of being picked last for games!
When I posted the amazing photo of the " clay people" two days ago, a senior nurse from my hospital tagged it with the byline " staff of ITU waiting for the allocation"
It got me thinking.
At every shift handover the ten nursing staff coming on to duty will stand in a rough line at the end of the ward. The nurse in charge will then allocate each member of staff to their respective patient taking into account skill mix, experience, continuity and request.
It sounds slightly old fashioned but it works in this context.
Being a very part time member of the team I am often the last to be allocated.
The ritual always reminds me of being picked for games when I was eleven.

I was never picked last for games as a kind but I was down there with the fat kids for sure. It's a memory of shame that still resonates some forty years later!
Hopeless at football and rugby I was always picked third or fourth boy or so from last. Only two obese lads and a skinny boy with gross coordination problems were left slumped, shamed and sad against the external wall of the sports hall when the sporty , tall boy leaders picked their teams in a ritual full of misery for the untalented and unpopular.
I was always grateful for not being last but miserable that I was as good as! So to speak.

I doubt schools continue with this ritual anymore. I do hope that they don't -for the negativity of allocation does remain with you into adulthood despite being ably camoflagued by humour and " confidence" .