Ruth Bader Ginsburg

The New York Met emails me weekly

 

It doesn’t bother me much unless it’s selling it’s Christmas Decorations 

I bought many of those when I’ve visited New York 

Last night the “ Met “ offered me my own Ruth Bader Ginsburg Action figure and how could I possibly refuse?

So on a whim ...I’ve bought her within seconds of the offer

An elderly Jewish woman action figure of intelligence and humour 

How gay is that...? 

She will be my next so alternative Christmas dec 

Maddie

 Yesterday, I did indeed clean the patio of it’s dirt and winter grime. The old rabbit hutch which had doubled as a wood store was dismantled and added to the field bonfire and as I was returning to the cottage, I spied a squared off stone peeping from behind a large tussock of grass.

It was a headstone of the only dog of mine that was buried on the field.

It was Maddie’s headstone.

I sat and remembered her for a little while

My eyes closed and my face turned to the sun

Maddie was a Scottish Terrier.

She was my second dog, and was grumpy, taciturn and aloof.

A mirror image of Finlay, my welsh terrier who loved the entire World with an open heart.

Maddie loved her masters with all of her heart but showed her affection with all the distance of a 1970 s parent.She would lie next to you, rather than on you and would arrroooo at you rather than lick your face but like a maiden aunt who was dressed for mourning, she was fierce and proud and only had eyes for her nephews who she watched with careful eyes of shiny obsidian. 

Maddie chasing Meg and Finlay

Maddie was never showy 

Never demanding 

And never overly demonstrative 

She enjoyed her quiet life following the others and following you

And after years of not thinking about her, I remembered her quirks and ill temper and loyalty until my eyes stung just a little.

On impulse I lifted her headstone out of the ground and cleaned away the mud and the dirt.

I placed it against the wall on the patio and will soften it’s look with potted primulas and violas 

I thought it would be nice, for passing walkers to read her name out loud when they saw the headstone

And wonder who Maddie was as they did so.

A Little Kindness

 

Village Elder, Islwyn looked busy this afternoon.

I spied him in my field , dragging branches to the ever growing bonfire mound.

He had been pottering around the graveyard,

The graveyard he has unofficially manicured for well over a decade.

He waved.

We talked about Gentleman Farmer Ralph 

He and Islwyn had been good friends.

“ The family said that they can almost see Ralph’s graveyard plot from his farm “ Islwyn said and I nodded looking across the valley to Ralph’s farmhouse standing proud to the South West “Pity  for them there was not a hole in the hedge“ he added.

I noted that the branches in his hands were the size of a small new hole in the graveyard hedge.

Another Daydream

I treated myself to a Moka Pot 

They sell them in Sainsbury’s 

Slightly pretentious I am sure ,

But I have enjoyed the ritual of the coffee making.

And to be fair it doesn’t take long to use.

I’m at the kitchen table at a loss to what to do today.

I’ve swapped my work shifts to the weekend to cover staff shortages and to allow me to participate in Gentleman Farmer Ralph’s funeral. 

I will stand in the lane  at noon , with the dogs by my side,

So what to do today? 

The patio needs scrubbing of its winter grime,

And the loose downspout on the corner of the cottage needs fixing.

The planters needs emptying of dead wood and the wood store that used to be an old rabbit hutch needs dismantling 

All dirty met work .....

I’m day dreaming too, thinking and day dreaming with my fat hands warmed by my coffee mug. The nice blue french mug without a handle...another thing that pleases me.

I’ll start work in a moment....

Just time for another coffee and another day dream

  

Guardian

 

One of the hospice staff snapped this photo today 

I feel we have our own set of guardian angels 

A Thought

 

Ever since I can remember when I have been out walking alone, I take into account the presence of single women around me.

I have never “followed” one, consciously I would always cross over a road to pass a lone woman, and I will often lower my eyes, respectfully as I say hello to a stranger when dog walking.

Am I a rarity ? 

No I don’t think that I am, 

I honestly think that 98% of men are mindful and respectful to women in public but our [ men’s] awareness of women’s discomfort does little to nothing to change the predatory, sexually inappropriate and bullying behaviour some damaged and evil men think is fun or deserving.

All the Vigils and conversations about this subject will not stop these men but efforts to change the justice system relating to the reporting of their behaviours will make a difference in how they are dealt with.

Having said this I found the following observation interesting.

“

Novelist Margaret Atwood writes that when she asked a male friend why men feel threatened by women, he answered, "They are afraid women will laugh at them." When she asked a group of women why they feel threatened by men, they said, "We're afraid of being killed."

The Incident Of The Lavender Bath Bomb

 

Blog reader Donell very kindly sent me a packet of lavender Bath Bombs. 

Lavender is calming and soothing and relaxing.

I kept them for tonight’s long, wonderful soak in the bath.

It’s been a nice day all told. 

This evening I had a phone call from one of my Friday quiz team members who strange-as-it-would-seem kinda found me attractive. 

It was nice to have a flirt.

Anyhow back to the bath bombs

I ran my bath

Threw in two hard as rock bath bombs and prepared myself for a lavender overload.

I must admit as I was pottering around the bathroom , I did say to myself that the odour of lavender wasn’t as strong as I had expected but as the water was steaming hot and inviting , I disrobed and plopped bum first into the bath

RIGHT ON TOP OF TWO MARBLE HARD BATH BOMBS

( no one told me they were wrapped in invisible plastic!)

The other side of the village must of heard the screams, and I clambered out of the tub convinced I was mortally wounded. 

With tears in my eyes I could see the packet of lavender bombs on the window ledge 

They were described as being “ calming” 

Hey ho

Calming ....my arse !

Mozzarella Dippers

 

This morning nine of my fellow students that had enrolled in “ A brief exploration of Wind in Cinema” met up on zoom for coffee. Several live in London, two are from the states and one lives in Malta. 

I am the only Northerner .

By the feel of the conversation most of us live alone ( although rather theatrically one elderly and rather grumpy spouse of a professor type kept shuffling around in the background of his study carrying piles of washing in her arms) and so over the space of nearly two hours we chatted about our favourite films, the recent BAFTA nominations, what film changed your life and the knotty question of Was Hitchcock a real pervert?

All great fun.

The weather deteriorated this afternoon so, after a walk, the dogs and I went up to McDonalds and shared a whole box of mozzarella cheese dippers in complete, joyous silence .