Not the nicest day at work today
No one died
Just a bit of conflict that needed sorting
Time for a gin, dog cuddles and the ending of The Colour Purple
My Girls
One girl asleep sat up on my trendy couch
Another, sat carefully on my knee, watching the world
My girls....
I wouldn’t have enjoyed Bodnant Gardens without my Mary today
And tonight, I wouldn’t have laughed out loud spying Dorothy asleep with her head propped up at the strangest of angles.
These two have carried me throughout the last year of lockdown , and have lifted my spirits through the year before that without even trying..... without them
I doubt I would have made it........so easily .....
My girls......
Bodnant Gardens
Mary amid daffodils
Very slowly, things are starting to open up here in Wales.
On Saturday I am meeting my sisters and sister in law for a garden based light lunch and today Mary and I are off to newly reopened Bodnant Gardens * for a walk.
I am so glad that the National Trust allows dogs into their gardens. Going alone is always fraught with the vague sense that I’m seen to be an old pervert. Having a dog with you precludes this strange stereotype.
Dorothy is far too excitable for such a place.
The gardens were thick with people determined to get the most out of the spring sunshine
I was so happy with Mary at my side. My girl is such sweet company
* Bodnant Garden (Welsh: Gardd Bodnant) is a National Trust property near Tal-y-Cafn, Conwy, Wales, overlooking the Conwy Valley towards the Carneddau mountains.
Founded in 1874 and developed by five generations of one family, it was gifted to the National Trust in 1949. The garden spans 80 acres of hillside and includes formal Italianate terraces, informal shrub borders stocked with plants from around the world, The Dell, a gorge garden, a number of notable trees and a waterfall. Since 2012, new areas have opened including the Winter garden, Old Park Meadow, Yew Dell and The Far End, a riverside garden. Furnace Wood and Meadow opened in 2017. There are plans to open more new areas, including Heather Hill and Cae Poeth Meadow.
Bread
“ Oooooooh ooooooh”
It’s a two tone old ladies call.
They usually reserve it for calling to other old ladies across a garden fence or a shopping aisle
It’s for the most part accompanied by a floppy wave of the hand or a shake of the handkerchief
And delivered right, it can be somewhat piercing
“ Ooooohhhh ooooooooo!”
It came again, this time much louder.
The dogs jumped from their sleeping positions and thundered downstairs to see
Mrs Trellis was stood at the kitchen wall , and wasn’t one for being kept waiting
She was fanning the freshly baked sour dough bread I had left on the wall to cool
“ I’ve just chased away a magpie !” She told me reproachfully
Blue, her greyhound, fidgeted in his blue coat by her side
I offered her one of the loaves
She refused but pointed at the other
“ I’ll take the other one “ she said “ Blue’s already licked it”
Diverged
The Walking Dead has continued in a somewhat abridged and covid shortened self for the postponed last few episodes of season 10
Most have been somewhat boring , but the latest , Diverged is a miniature masterclass of charismatic acting from the actress Melissa McBride. The fifty something heroine of the zombie apocalypse.
I won’t go too far into the plot. Suffice to say that old friends Carol and Daryl ( Norman Reedus) are finding their way in a uncertain world again, and like many old friends , their bonds are tested by fate and serendipity .
Carol is trying to cope with Daryl’s rejection and with the benign help of the the delightfully sweet Jerry ( Cooper Andrews) she finds some order in the chaos
Jerry, the lovely Cooper Andrews
I loved this gentle, meandering episode , which was a thoughtful character study of two lost people.
I hope the final season , season 11 is just as good
It’s amazing , that I’ve followed this programme and these characters for over a decade now..carol and Daryl are flawed people...irritating and flawed and oh so human .....and we all know they are going to make up at the end
They have to
Affection
I have a proper affection for places.
I think we all do.
Our home towns, our favourite holiday destinations , places that mark significant milestones and times in our lives.
We all have love for a place.
New York City holds such affection from me, of course so does Trelawnyd, Chatsworth House in Derbyshire, Sydney, Sitges in Spain and that grubby old dame of Yorkshire my beloved old home city of Sheffield all rank highly in in those places that have made me the person you see today.
As I was driving into Llandudno this morning, the early morning Sun , made earlier by the clock’s change, lit up the Great Orme eastern face in a dazzling flash of golden warm light.
I stopped on the North Shore to take a photo of the peninsula and had a sudden rush of affection ( once termed SRAs) for the slightly fading but still valiant Victorian town.
It’s Welsh but remains oh so different from Trelawnyd and indeed from its local hinterland,
And I regard it with some pride and like the Sun reflecting on the Orme, with a great deal of warmth.
A Nothing Kind of Day
A strange day.
It’s stormy, and we have gales here today.
I’ve done little , save for watching various eclectic stuff on iPad and tv.and didn’t leave my bed until midday.
The Bette Davis romp The Anniversary. Upstairs Downstairs ( the episode when the King came to dinner) and the delightful Canadian comedy show Kim’s Convenience was the order of the day.
By late afternoon , I became quite stir crazy and still in my nightmare the dogs and I picked up some mozzarella dippers and sat in the Car in the beach to share them .( 3.33 dippers each)
I opened the window as far as I dare, and the rain which was falling almost horizontally refreshed us all .
I wasn’t the only single person sat in their cars overlooking the slate coloured sea.
I’ve always felt sorry for single people sat in their cars before.
The wind and rain blew away the cobwebs and I’ve come home and lit the fire
Ghosts
Something white at the window
I was sat in the office writing notes when a large morphing white figure slowly pressed itself to the frosted window immediately to my right.
It was almost dark outside and there was a bang of something hard on the glass
I shat myself
And let out an unmanly squeak
I am the only person working at this part of the hospice.
Another white figure appeared .
Looking out of the dark
I opened the window very carefully.
Ten Kashmir goats, were happily grazing on the hospice gardens as gales started to lash the Orme
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