Going Gently

Just Before Dawn

There is a verse in the Everything But The Girl song We Walk The Same Line which goes

And I bet you could tell me
How slowly four follows three
And you're most forlorn
Just before dawn

I've never suffered from insomnia.
I'm not suffering from it now, but this morning I was wide awake at 4 am lying in bed with my eyes as large and round as a bushbaby's.
I have a reason to be awake.
I have a solicitor's appointment later this morning.
So thoughts have been running through my head with the constant roar of tube trains through acentral line tunnel.
I've cleaned the kitchen floor. I've walked four disgruntled dogs and I've had breakfast.
I've rearranged every cushion in the living room after Winnie had scattered them last night and I've read the on line paper.

Apparently insomnia is on the rise and the reason for this is said to be our increasing use of smart phones and iPads.
Like I said, I usually sleep like a baby, so this in-the -middle -of -the-night thing is a new horror for me.

Aznavour

I didn't know Charles Aznovour was gay friendly
Only today did I learn a bit more about the singer, someone who peppered my childhood 1970s with a oh so individual sounding soundtrack.
This was a brave song for him to sing, for What Makes a Man is the story of a drag queen living a lonely life with his mother. It's a melancholic piece in the vein of Eponine's On My Own from Les Miserables and Aznavour's unique delivery somehow makes the whole thing slightly more tragic .

The tragic drag queen is such a mainstay of queer culture it's now become an accepted norm. Having said this, my only experience of drag was a few awful cabaret pub performances - a backdrop to my salad days and Harvey Feirsten's Torch Song Trilogy
Oh and back in 1987 I once found myself slumped at the bar of Roxy nightclub in York next to the ugliest drag queen I have ever seen.
She had two day old stubble, a nasty permed black wig and a long ill fitting sheath gown on and she was swigging from a bottle of what looked like pale ale.
And as she took a drag from her cigarette and fixed me with a drunken red eyed look I chirped up with a " Christ you look like my mother!" remark.
I never saw the punch coming ......

Big Voice

Mary got charged by a loose Dalmatian yesterday.
It had its head up and meant business,
Mary was on her lead
I employed my usual , well used defences, at it ran forward.
I stood in front of Mary with my hand up and bellowed " NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" at the top of my voice
The Dalmatian stopped short suddenly unsure of itself.
Another " Nooooo!" had it turning on its heels
I didn't care that it's owner thought I was a loon

This behaviour can work with bullying people too!
I remember being stopped in the village by a man who wanted to take me to task about something I had written on the blog.
I brought the confrontation to a finite end by raising my voice to a level which could be heard over a thousand yards followed by a definite and rather forceful "Fuck off!"

I always liked the story repeated by ( I think) the actress Shiela Hancock who had a friend who would always yell " OUT BEFORE IN!!!" to waiting commuters standing nose to nipple in front of her train door after she arrived at every station .
People are like dogs and any animal. They need to know exactly where they stand.

Miriam Margolyes, that famous darling of the late night chat show often trolls out a " shocking" story of when she was once frotted against by a man on the tube.
In her best Lady Bracknell voice she said she bellowed the unlikely response of " WILL YOU GET YOUR COCK OUT OF MY ARSE!!!!!" a statement that may soften any erection in a second as well as get a chat show audience to love you.

Being loud can empower
But it also can get your head kicked in

Sunday

For the first time since everything

I felt very lonely today

I'm tired

Nite nite

Night Out

Blowing away the cobwebs on a blustery beach today

Last night I went out with Bunty and her new girlfriend Katy.
I was still hung over from my night shift and tried to give Bunty a raincheck text but she was having non of it. They picked me up just before eight and we were in a gay pub in Chester by a quarter to nine.
Bunty checked me over after we had exited the car.
"Nice new pants Graybags!" She bellowed pointing at my clean trousers
"Sainsbury's " I told her
Bunty rolled her eyes
It's been a while since I've been in a gay anywhere!
The pub was loud, good humoured and busy and apart from a somewhat sticky moment where Bunty tried to introduce me to an uninterested but polite bear cub half my age, the night went ok.
I would have preferred a quieter venue but Bunty was on a roll

As Bunty got happily drunk and flirted in a loud goodnatured way with everyone, male and female Katy and I had a long chat . Katy, I liked immediately, she has a job working with abused women and deals with sex trafficing issues locally so the conversation was a rather illuminating and interesting one to me, a bloke who has absolutely no experience in such issues and the two of us carried on the conversation on the way home as Bunty snored away on the back seat.

When we neared the village Bunty was still asleep but she rallied briefly at the suggestion of a McDonalds stop off.
" We'll go gay clubbing next time" she suggested as she bolted down a handful of fries and I was grateful for a wink and shake of the head from Katy which said don't worry- it's not going to happen- I know you are not up to that!
At the top of the lane I said my big sloppy burger tasting goodbye kisses with Bunty and a more civilised peck with Katy who , as I started to get out of the car, squeezed my hand " Chin up dearheart" she said
She obviously reads my blog

Swaps Coffee Morning

The Trelawnyd Community Association holds a regular coffee morning and book swap which seems to have now interested not only the ever faithful greyhairs but many of the younger families with children
This morning the hall was almost full, well full enough for Bridget from Well street to set up an extra table, and when Mary and I got there Mrs Trellis was already walking away with an arm load of swapped books. " The Nights are drawing in!" She said showing me her large print Catherine Cookson's and what suspiciously looked like a Jackie Collins tucked in at the bottom." I'm just getting my reading matter sorted!" She trilled
I hadn't had breakfast after my first night shift , so Gwawr in the kitchen rustled me up a fat bastard slice of coffee cake and strong coffee and I joined Ann and an eye rolling Terry at their table as she regailed the other villagers about our zip Wire adventure .
I stayed an hour, swapped a book for a French DVD ( and at the same time noticing that my collection of donated LGBT themed donated DVDs had already gone ! - how interesting!!!) , said a few more hellos and got subscripted into a potential art initiative by the chair of the new village arts group but after realising that I oh so needed a kip as I looked like Ken Dodd on speed, I made my excuses that I needed my bed.....and left as the sun finally came out

Before Shift

Just a chatty post today....Those of you that have ever known night shifts before will understand it when I say today feels like a nothing sort of day.
It's as though you are waiting for something to happen, a bit like the run up to a concert or a wedding,
The time spent waiting seems wasted somehow...but of course it isn't.
I walked Mary on her power walk, and sat down to make lists of what I planned to do between my new nursing shifts in the next month. I always need to use a calendar
There's a few things to do:- Choir, a theatre trip with friends to see the all female version of Lord of the flies, a dinner party, fat club, Sams shifts , a social with Gorgeous George, a visit with my solicitor 😟. There's also the allotments to dig too....and I still miss the ponies.
Nick from the Community Association has just knocked on the side window ( I thought it may be Hattie wanting to borrow Mary again as company on her regular walks )
Nick reminded me of the book swap coffee morning tomorrow.
I promised I'd go
I had low fat noodles with mushrooms and quorn for lunch.
I am not a lover of quorn , it feels like I'm eating a cut up sanitary towel .
I completed the recycling and ironed a clean white shirt for my shift ( I'm wearing a smart shirt as I can't fit into any of their uniforms as yet.

As the dogs sleep on surrounded by halos of sun, I listen to the gentle podcasts tales of the Oslo detective Annika Standed and Bill Nighy's Charles Paris mysteries knowing full well that I will fall
asleep in the armchair quite soon.
I've told the iPad to wake me at 5 pm if I do so
Life plods on
I'll leave you with this delightfully funny clip of call my bluff...watch it to the end