Sitges, Spain

3am

The Brothers

The three bachelors, through plain cheek and chutzpah have won over the neighbours and have proved to be more popular than any of the birds that have frequented the Ukrainian Village over the years. The reason for this is their blind bravery, for the three brothers spend much of their day on the periphery of the lane at the mercy of passing traffic, dogs on leads and young boys looking for mischief.
They now  have a habit of crowing in unison as soon as a new face, car or animal appears, and puff out their chests like short men at a gym when someone ventures a friendly hello.

Ive caught most of the neighbours feeding them tidbits in the driveways of their houses!
They now move together...... almost as if they were one animal

More Veg

Rachel's slightly controversial novelty veg photo entry

Please keep em coming

jgsheffield@hotmail.com 

Shit In A Pot

One of many broods of indian runners in the kitchen 

Yesterday evening I received a phonecall from a woman who needed some advice about ducklings. Her son had brought home four and she was in a pickle of what to feed them and how to keep them warm.
I gave her the info she needed ( scrambled egg is a great stopgap for hungry ducklings) and wished her well.
Ducklings are notoriously dirty little creatures , I warned her, especially if they are kept in the house. They have a somewhat annoying skill of flinging shit with their feet and it is easy to catch salmonella from them, if you don't wash your hands properly.
Nine years ago , after a particularly nasty bout of diarrhoea, I had to take a stool specimen into the labs at work to see if I had caught a nasty bug from my own ducklings who were being nursed in the dog crate in the kitchen. The sample was " placed" in a small plastic specimen jar and was neatly labelled with my name, nhs number and the words faecal specimen on the side. I placed it on the dashboard of the old berlingo and went out to complete a few jobs.before setting off for the hospital.

Now, I had forgotten about the container until I had stopped to let Olwenna Banks Hughes and Gwyneth Jones into the car. The two old ladies had walked along London Road a way and as Olwenna's fat ankles looked even more swollen than usual I offered them a lift home.
As we turned up High Street, the stool sample rolled noisily along the dashboard from its resting place,  first one way then the other and both old ladies stopped their chatter to silently watch it on its journey underneath the windscreen.

I said nothing and neither did they.
The " shit in a pot" incident was never referred to again

Ball Trouble

The woman involved is usually rather aloof.
She's tiny and skinny and never says hello but always pats Winnie when they pass each other on the walkway.
I noticed that she always wears large sunglasses even in bad weather.
I'd say she was approaching 70.
As usual she had a chirpy, long legged mongrel with her and today she was swinging a ball which was attached to a wide plastic handle.
I was daydreaming so only realised that there would be a problem seconds too late, as moments after our paths crossed I turned to warn her not to get too close to Winnie with the ball.
For Winnie adores balls.
As I turned I saw the woman merrily swinging the toy for her own dog to play with and like lightening Winnie jumped up and grabbed the ball in her fat and very powerful mouth.
The woman pulled back on the handle.
Winnie pulled harder.
And without , even a pause the woman flew through the air like a rag doll and landed with a splat on the path.
I almost laughed at the very cartoon nature of it all, thank god I didn't.

I don't think she'll sue, and she did wave me away after I offered to pay for any damage to the sunglasses ( once we eventually found them) but at least she let me dust  her off briefly and check her for hip fractures.

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