Film


I was thinking about my love of cinema this morning and where it all came from.
Visiting the cinema in the 1970s could have been viewed by some as a rather dismal activity. The decade was not known as an uplifting period in movie history as some of the bleakest films found their way to the screen (Straw Dogs, Clockwork Orange,Dog Day Afternoon, Taxi Driver and One Flew Over The Cuckoo's nest) yet as a baby faced adolescent I was spared the trauma of trying to get into see an "X" certificate movie.....favouring the more teen friendly "A" and "AA" movies..............so of course we had the plethora of disaster films of the mid 70's to enjoy, as well as the likes of Jaws, BugsyMalone,The Omen,The Spy That Loved Me, Close Encounters and Alien)
The cinemas were large cold, uncomfortable orange and beige places that smelled of cigarettes and damp, but I loved making the effort to go to Rhyl on the bus to sit though a matinee by myself, the trouble to go the four miles, really made the ritual worthwhile.
There were always two features on offer,and always an ice cream lady with proper ice cream and wafers all set out in a box strung around her neck. (I never had the money to get an ice cream!)
Matinees were almost deserted every time I went, so even to this day, there is something quite reassuring and familiar when I am surrounded by empty seats and all alone in the dark, the lighter side of seventies movie life (remember the 1970's was a bleak economic, news worthy and political time), could wash over me.
This love of film fantasy has continued to be an important part of my life today. Love of the technicolour epic continues ( and always will do), but thankfully my cinematic interests and experiences are now wide and varied! 
The ritual of choosing the film, the paying for the ticket and the sitting down in a chosen ( and quiet) seat remains a joy and this evening if I go and see the biopic Churchill, my experience will be as fresh and as enjoyable as my 1974 trip to see The Poseidon Adventure!


Tell me what I am feeling


Lard arse


Stan stopped me today with a cheery " I was telling my Kit only yesterday that you've lost some weight ....you look better for it too....you were starting to waddle!" 
I smiled weakly
He was right....I had started to waddle.
I am beginning to feel the benefit of no scotch eggs, those daily long walks with Mary and the weekly drive to Holywell for weigh in at fat club.
So far I have lost 32 lbs!
" Thats the equivalent of sixteen bags of sugar! "  so screamed  leader Joanne at Fatclub amid ooohhhs and arrrhhhh  from the seated masses...but I find it more astonishing that it is the exact weight of William! A dog that I would have difficulty carrying for more than 50 yards!
No wonder I had found it hard reaching the bathtaps whilst having a bath!

Now I can reach those taps without rocking back and forth like a waterlogged Buddha
I can now march those two miles with Mary without gasping and farting
And I can get into my underpants without the usual hopping around and overbalancing.
My treble chin has now become a double chin.
And my non elasticated pants have now been dusted down to be worn.
I have 28 lbs to go!
How could I have got so big!? I ask myself now
The answer is an easy one....
I ate too much shit!


Pass A Tissue

Anne Dorval as the heart recipient 

I went to see the French " Transplant" movie Heal the Living tonight at Theatre Clwyd.
It chronicled the story of the transplant of a heart from donor to recipient ...now
I have been involved several times in the harvesting of organs .. so the movie intrigued me 
One scene, where a heart failure patient sleeps alongside her distraught lesbian lover ( who just happens to be a concert pianist ) I found especially moving and I had to smile that as I blubbed quietly in seat D13 a woman who often sits in C12 ( that I nod to but have never talked to) silently passed me a tissue over her shoulder! 

Jamming My Head Through The Conservatory Window


  • The hot and humid weather is proving somewhat troublesome for some. After Church on Sunday Trendy Carol ( dressed in a flattering floaty trouser ensemble) stopped by to ask if I could check on neighbour T, who had suffered a "bit of a do" on one of the back pews and who had taken his way back home. I immediately popped down and worryingly got no answer when I knocked on the door. Seeing the conservatory window ajar, I managed to climb up onto a wall and jammed my head through the gap and proceeded to call my neighbour's name and shouted to see if he was ok. Getting no answer and all very hot and very sweaty I circled the bungalow trying to force open windows and doors. It was a good job that my burglary skills are pretty shit as I found out soon later that neighbour T had been enjoying a large roast lunch at The Crown!
  • The Flower Show meeting went smoothly on Monday. Matriarch Irene has agreed to take over Auntie Glad's stall and after last year's initiative of sandwich making went somewhat flat the committee will stick to selling homemade cakes as refreshments. 
  • Can all cup winners return their engraved cups asap thank you!
  • Apologies to the blog fan who knocked on the window yesterday with her somewhat colourful daughter and her boyfriend in tow! I should have offered you all a cup of tea, but I was frying meatballs at the time....it was nice to meet you.- apologies again for Winnie's lascivious behaviours and  forgive me but I never asked your name...please comment if you read this so I know who you are! 
  • Thanks for the latest novelty veg photo! Zombie potato!  ( jgsheffield@hotmail.com)
It's so humid today..I am presently lying on the chaise longue wafting myself with a limp bit of lettuce 

A Simple Lesson In Mental Illness

Yesterday I was almost drawn into a debate about the punishment of terrorists and counter terrorists here in the British Isles.
I pulled back from the argument, worried at the way the conversation was heading.
Words like monsters and evil and capital punishment were being thrown about into the mix with descriptions like mad and bad and at times like these, where emotions are understandably high, we need to take a deep breath in order to separate the wheat from the chaff.
Secreted within the fundamentalists, the misguided and the angry will be the mentally ill. Terrorist plots, the fear of attack and the conspiracy theories that will no doubt accompany them are like nectar to bees when it comes to people suffering from psychotic delusions. The madness of the acts attracts true madness like a magnet.
Someone who is acutely mentally ill and who is  sectionable under the mental health act ( for being a danger to themselves or to others) is not in control of their faculties, plain and simple
They are unable to make informed decisions and therefore cannot be held responsible for their actions.
These people need medical and nursing care, and not punishment . In severe cases secure care may well be for life.
Now it can be argued that all terrorists that maim and kill and destroy seemingly without a second glance must be mad in someway and I have no easy answer to this, suffice to say there has always been a fine line between evil and psychopathic behaviour and psychosis. One can be termed bad, and can be punished the other may be called mad and needs treatment. The definitions are always blurred by emotion.
I don't know if any of the recent terror attacks were actually committed by someone Suffering from mental illness.
But what I do know, and what I am passionate about, is the fact that if any of them are psychotic and sectionable under the Mental Heath Act, then people should realise that they are not in control of their actions.

A Frozen Lobster on Your nipples.

The Prof broke a tooth on a maverick hors d'oeuvre and has retired to bed after emergency dental work. I took the dogs out in the relative cool of the evening. It's been so hot today Winnie has laid down in the shade of the garden buddleia with a tea towel covered Aldi frozen half lobster placed under her nipples.
Bulldogs don't do heat! 
We bumped into affable despot Claire in the street. She had just seen very small girl running through the village clutching a teddy bear, and had gone out, in her comfy pants to investigate . The girl  was no where to be seen, which prompted a " ghost girl " sort of conversation 
We've all agreed that we had experienced far too sun today. 


Love a duck

It's hot again today, almost too hot to sleep after night shift.
There is a Flower Show meeting at 2pm
I will leave you with two more entries to the novelty veg/fruit competition 
Green Peacock and Out for a duck


Send entries to jgsheffield@hotmail.com