..and the little one said.....

I wonder if dating in the gay world has significantly changed over the years.
According to the " immediacy" of gay dating sites, you can now locate a fellow homo to a matter of metres 24/7 a consumer improvement which goes hand in hand with all aspects of the Internet .
In a matter of minutes yesterday, I had located and bought some stove cleaning logs for my fire, sorted out two birthday gifts and downloaded an application form for a new job.
All done when I waited for the chimney sweep to tie up his brushes.
The internet just allows you to meet other gay men quicker and easier.
A significant number of these guys are married/ partnered [to men] and report they are in open relationships .
Their apps are happy to share fun can be had singularly or together.
In fact I was somewhat surprised to see an ex partner from years ago on one, bare arsed with a present and much younger boyfriend trolling for a third!
When I was with him he nearly had a stroke when I was innocently stopped by a friendly bear at a nun's drag queen show in San Francisco
But like they say, that's another story.
I was always chosen second from last at school games, (a painful and oh so common childhood trauma me thinks ) so anything that echoes those old feelings of comparison and competition even in the bedroom, Im afraid, just leaves me rather cold and at a loss.
I've never really subscribed to the notion of having your cake and eating it either.
So, it would seem that I'm not built, physically and psychologically for sharing
The thought of it , kind of morphed me into Alan Bennett.
" You two just carry on and I'll pop out to the shops!" 

Swinging , sharing , open relationships are not the prerogative of gay life
Modern day sexuality seems to far more complicated and varied than it was ever seen to have been.

So If a married couple of attractive men wanted me to join them under an Indian cotton duvet than I would be very flattered.

But I wouldn't believe a bloody word of it

A Cat In The Laundry Basket

I had just settled down with Eurovision when there was a knock on the back door.
It was a girl from London road with a laundry basket.
" Have you got a black cat with a bit of white on him?" She asked seriously
A small still figure in the basket was covered with a towel
"He was just hit by a car!" 
The dogs started to crowd around
I took a deep breath
It wasn't Albert, it was an older cat with more white on him than Albert's tiny white chest star, he looked peaceful
I told the girl I would post her find on the village website forum and she left still sad.
Link
https://nextdoor.co.uk/neighborhood_feed/
I was watching the Netherlands' melancholic entry when finally Albert  walked into the living room after a day who knows where.......he sideswiped Mary purely out of devilment and she fell from the couch with a bang
He head rubbed each of the dogs in turn then grazed my cheek with his forehead in an awkward hello
And for a moment I found myself shedding the briefest of tears.
These animals will be the death of me

Fat Bastard Breakfast

The problem with low fat bread is that it burns so very easily
Smoke filled the cottage this morning so much so that the dogs and Albert evacuated themselves to the back garden where I eventually flung the cremated crusts amid some tearful coughing and sputtering.
I should have known better as Winnie in a panic of greediness tried to eat one burnt slice whole necessitating me to perform a rather robust Heimleck manoeuvre amid the aquilegia and poppies.
Dr Barnsley from the Rectory passed as the drama unfolded but had the good sense to keep his head down

We are waiting for the chimney sweep to arrive.
Usually I sweep my own flues!!!! Oh err missus but as the cottage fire is still filling the place with smoke when lit, I've had to get the big guns in.
Thank goodness work is paying me for working my allotted holiday week last week.
Chimney Sweeps don't come cheap.

Winnie will be in heaven when he arrives, all thought of her near death experience forgotten at the sight of a pair of overalls.

The closest she could get to the sweep was to lie on his dust sheets

The nice weather we are experiencing is allowing me to stick to my diet pretty well this week.
Now, I'm a big fan of the Facebook group Rate My Plate, in fact it is the only group I follow on line so for those of you that have not heard of it, all I need to tell you that it is basically just photographs of what members are going to have for their tea that day!
( and believe me there are some doozies to be seen!)

Anyhow I shall leave you with a photograph ( and recipe ) for my own version of  fat bastard breakfast
You can eat as much as you like  and not put on an ounce!

Fat Bastard Breakfast 

Ingredients 

1 tin of cherry tomatoes 
2 extra large eggs
Chilli paste 
Garlic
Low fat spray oil 
Sliced Mushrooms ( a whole box)
Seasoning

Light fry mushrooms in low fat spray, chilli and garlic
Add tomatoes and simmer until everything is gloriously mushy
Add eggs and poach
Pile high on dry toast 

Hope

I worked for almost two decades with people paralysed by trauma and accident and during that time I never once heard the question
" Will I ever walk again?"
In my experience, most patients already know the answer to  that question but the reality, and its a truly massive reality, of the whole trauma thing has to be put so deeply behind every coping mechanism going that the conscious mind reminds me of that time  I found my feet standing on the shoreline of an icy lake. The painful total emersion is buffered by fearful tiny steps away from that frozen water.

I once had the privilege of watching the spinal injury consultant, Mr Ganapatiraju Ravichandran ( know to all as Just " Ravi") at his very best. During a ward round, where a gaggle of professionals , medics, physiotherapists , occupational therapists and nurses surrounded a patient in a bed, he caught my eye that the patient and his mother needed a one to one moment.
As the others moved off, I pulled the curtains around the bed, and Ravi, who was a tiny whippet of a man, stood quietly at the bedhead in silence. The patient was a man in his twenties who had broken his neck in a diving accident on holiday a month before  He had no movement or sensations below his nipple line and was single with his dark eyed mother who had sat at his bedside for the duration
They were exhausted and both looked at Ravi very carefully.
" Nothing has improved has it?" the man asked eventually, as his mother covered her mouth with a fist and Ravi paused giving the question the dignity of some thought.
"No it hasn't !" he said his eyes filling with tears.
It was the first time I had ever seen him emotional in the clinical situation.
I sort of held my breath
" Can we still hope?" the mother eventually asked, her face crumpled and grey and Ravi lifted his hand to where there was a thin chink in the curtain surrounding the bed which let the thinnest sliver of sunshine to catch on his brown hand.
He and they looked at the light for a moment
" Let's hope together" he said gently, and he sat down to talk

( click on link below)
https://www.nature.com/articles/sc200913

Camp?

Australia's entry for Eurovision in rehearsal 

It couldn't be more camp if 15 drag queens, Cher, and Ryland had been trapped naked in a lift! 

A mixed Bag

It's 72 degrees and Winnie is melting gently by the kitchen wall.
She couldn't be arsed moving even when Trendy Carol tottered past sporting what looked like a New York baseball top on. Trendy Carol showed me a delicate piece of jade jewellery  she bought from her recent trip to China and said that she was fully detoxed after drinking gallons of warm water that was provided at every meal.
Her skin did look mighty fine I must say

This afternoon I'm continuing getting the garden into shape but after several people stopped to chatter I've given the job up until tomorrow as nothing was getting done.
One happy hole complained that the  cockerels were noisy in the mornings but I was quick to say that I was no longer responsible for them as they now lived in the Church grounds where they had sought sanctuary like Quasimodo did at Norte Dame. 
"Who feeds them " the villager asked in a slightly accusatory tone
" The Lord will provide" I said with a straight face .

I've managed to change my cystoscopy date this afternoon too, which was another good job done. My bladder has been playing up today ( the little devil) and I hope I'm won't be running to the loo a lot tonight at Choir as Jamie ( now sporting a 1940s beard as well as a moustache) wants us to tackle finlandia ! 
Oh lord....can it be done? 

Teeth and Wounds

I'm in a nearby town looking at properties I may be able to afford.  Im at that " amble down street" stage - getting the flavour
The lay of the land.
Having said this Im all hot and bothered as it's a hot day and my bladder is playing up and is in need of hydrating
Ive found a bookshop cafe to recharge in.
There is a psychology-esque going around my head today which goes
 Their teeth fit your wounds 
I think it refers to the phenomenon of repeating relationships with people who have similar traits to those who have psychologically hurt you in the past, (often significent others and parents)
Recently I have reconnected with a dear friend with whom I share the same "wounds" from childhood. Im not being dramatic here, its just a statement of fact that we had experienced unhappy times. The only difference between us was that mine was a cushioned childhood buffered by siblings and grandparents whilst theirs was more isolated and therefore oh so more difficult to deal with.
Im meandering I know as this train of thought weaves around my head , but it echoes a moment in last night's Game of Thrones where Therion the dwarf thanks his much more handsome and normal statured brother for being kind to him during a unhappy childhood
Teeth and wounds, wounds and wounds...we all have them

Coconuts

The thirty something woman reached over the conveyer belt from her position behind me and pointed to the box of wipes in the centre of my shopping
" ohhh they look nice I didn't see them when I went round .." she read the box " oooooooh with coconut oil ! Just great for removing make up" 
I smiled and had the good grace to blush
" They are for your botty not your face " I whispered
And she hid her face with her hands.
I love little moments like these
My bum now smells Gently  of coconuts !
Like a Thai Curry