Be Careful What You Wish For

More stormy weather had the five of us scuttling off to bed after my second night shift of three.
By 1pm, the wind had woken most of us to a restless mass and we resembled a nest of baby blackbirds waiting for their mom to return with food until I couldn't bare it any longer and I took the younger dogs for a walk in the old Churchyard.
The new Postman was standing at the cottage gate when we returned as the driving rain started.
He was afraid to walk into the garden as Winnie was Standing guard in the doorway, and passed me a small parcel to me before running back to his van.
The parcel contained a hand knitted bobble hat.
It was just like the one I described earlier this week. The one I coveted from the amiable gay smoking guy on the railway line.
And it fitted perfectly.
Thank you Lee it was a lovely gesture.
I banked up the fire, ate some baby bananas and drank tea as the wind and rain increased
And I'm typing this , in bed
Still with my bobble hat on

Bed

Another Atlantic storm is whistling through the brazen cat flap as violent as the tornado did in Dorothy's wooden farmhouse in the Wizard Of Oz 
I've lit the fire
And I'm off to bed

Returns Monday

Being Unfaithful

Have you ever been unfaithful?

I guess I am in an ideal position to be able to ask this question because I have an anonymous feature in my comment box, so if you would like to share things with the group , feel free to unburden yourself without judgement.
I'm asking this because I have had the conversation with an acquaintance who admitted that they could have been unfaithful a couple of times within a long term relationship, but didn't .

I have never been unfaithful inside any of my relationships but I was tempted once as I recall, after being approached by a drunken hunk  of bearded god who gave me the glad eye on a ward night at Sheffield's Ledmill. 
For me, the frisson of excitement and flattery couple with the fact a red cheek was rubbed against by a lumberjack the size of Norwegian Christmas Tree was almost enough to get me giggling like a Schoolboy on heat....but I kept my head ( and my knicker elastic) firmly under control and went back home to my partner.

Being unfaithful is a complicated phenonomen
It's swathed in guilt, sometimes a rewriting of the truth,
Bargaining and denial.
It can be a springboard to a new begining or a death knell of a relationship
It can be something you just think and fantasise about
Or it's something you can do without guilt or remorse

What's your story?

Temper

I have owned four bulldogs and all but one have had the tendency to tantrum when things don't quite go their way.
To stop squabbles among the troops all of the dogs are fed separately and this morning because she was fed up with being outside a few moments longer than she expected Dorothy had the mother of all tantrums at the back door.
Within seconds she had broken Albert's cat flap, knocked over several potted cyclamen and kicked the shit out of the recycling bins
When finally allowed into the house she threw herself, gayman style onto the reading chair in the kitchen and refused to look at anyone for over half an hour

Mary, surveying the damage

Tantrums in Bulldogs are much deeper and more graphic than anything a terrible two toddle could bring to the table.
After years of practice , I did what any responsible bulldog owner would do in similar circumstances

I went to bed

Went The Day Well

My day got better after the making of the will
I had found it rather sad to change my beneficiary, from someone I once would have happily left all of my lifelong savings and assets to. So much so that my solicitor who had originally overseen our will making, was sweet and thoughtful and timely with her tissue box..
But like I said, the day got better,
As days nowadays often do.

I met a friend for lunch then caught up with the affable despot which is jason who sent me this video via what's app, as he a want to do with viral gems

Now I may have to explain that " Bashing someone's back doors in " is a more lurid example of one of our British euphemisms relating to anal sex......
I won't draw pictures but The Despot cackled like a loon when I saw him, so ticked by the schoolboy humour of it all .
Jason and I are off to see some sort of Zombie theatre performance at Theatr Clwyd next week.
What fun.

Trelawnyd's full choir contingent was present tonight as Heulwen was back after her two months journey to Europe, so after a somewhat spirited and balanced version of Hallelujah ( the choir was so pleased that we had impressed Jamie with our singing) we ( , me Hattie and Heulwen) went to the pub to swap personal and village gossip.

We are arranging to see the sentimental Military Wives movie ( the one about the choir)
I think a filmed version of our choir would have been a better story, but then I would.

Last Will & Testament

I'm sat in the solicitors
Not my divorce solicitors
But another, more local one
I'm just about to amend my will

I'm working out who to leave my fortune to
The solicitor's clerk has just made me an Americano and offered me a Danish pastry

I feel strange

Thank You

Thank you to David Hastings who sent me this Walking Dead car sticker today
Thank you Nu for my London treats.
Thank you to Roscia for your theatre gift
And thank you to Chic Eleanor for more yellow roses, all wrapped up by a simple black ribbon
How lucky am I ?

The Walking Dead starts again next Monday
David's message that accompanied the sticker was only half washed away by Dennis' storm
"You're a funny sad git that man " it said.......
Lol
Got it in one!!!

To My Face

The sad death of Caroline Flack has galvanised the ongoing debate about trolls and social media.
There is, I think, an underlying truth about some people that patrol the internet
And that is they feel vindicated to say exactly what they like on line,
Words and phrases that they would never say to anyone face to face.
The internet buffer allowing a type led Tourette's to be unleashed and unchecked.

I last lost my temper a week ago.
I was in the gents toilet in Sheffield's Lyceum Theatre and had just washed my hands when three giggling young women boldly walked in and stood next to the one occupied cubicle.
In front of them stood six men all in the process of having a wee.
I went off like a fire cracker
" How DARE YOU COME IN HERE, HOW DARE YOU! Get OUT! GET OUT! A MAN WOULD NEVER BE ALLOWED INSIDE A WOMAN's TOILET GET OUT!!!!!!" 
You get the gist
I had the three of them scuttling for the exit like panicked chickens and before anyone of you jump to their defence at the poor provision of lady's bogs in theatreland compared with the average size of a woman's bladder..All I will say is that ....I DONT CARE!!!!
(Btw I did note that in the Albert Hall , all of the toilets are multisex)
Privacy is privacy and men deserve it just as much as women regardless of the fact they can effectively wee into a hole in the wall...

Like those women in the theatre, or the man that can't control his Huskey dogs on the railway walkway. I am quite capable to say my piece, but I shall always do that to their face.
This ability to speak my mind has improved the older I get, but immaturity and low confidence or low self esteem is no excuse for trolling insults.
Trolls feel they have the right to say anything they want
They feel that they have the moral right to speak their own truth and I guarantee that they would never speak the shit they do online to anyone's face.
I guarantee it...

I'm sat in my favourite cafe , the one with the bad tempered barista .
I've got some small jobs to do
I've collected Albert's "rustic " bowl from pottery
I have to buy a belated birthday gift for my brother in law ( Ive decieded on some fresh steak and trimmings)
And I want to visit my aunt who is home from hospital
I bumped into labradoodle guy,again this morning. I think he is gay but I've gone off him as I caught him chainsmoking in his car!
It's a shame really,
I really did like his bobble hat