I went to Chester today to see Minari at the Storyhouse
A quiet study of second generation Korean family in American was a lovely choice of my first cinema trip
A man sat alone in the row in front of me waved at the audience behind him as he got comfortable and cheerfully shouted out “ Hello all.......isn’t this BLOODY fabulous ? “
We all murmured our agreement from behind our masks
And then there was a small smattering of applause..........
Mrs Trellis repeated this apparent old Greek Quote only yesterday,
She was less serious than when we met last
“ Happiness is when old men plant trees the Shade of which they know they will never sit in “
I think the second lockdown has made me a little low.
Would I called it a bit depressed? I’m not sure . I always hate, with a vengeance when people bandy around self diagnosing here and using the very serious descriptions of depression where something like despondency would be more appropriate.
But I concede, I’ve felt low enough to be tearful almost daily and flat enough to react in an exaggerated manner when the church laburnum was felled.
I also found myself mulling over a recent contact by my ex husband who messaged me wanting a more friendly communication .Alas it’s very easy to be magnanimous when you have moved on and you are happy and perhaps all you want are things to be neat and tidy and filed neatly and away, guilt free.
I found myself wanting more communication from him, not the best thing when you are not happy, lonely and you’ve not moved on as far as you would like.
I’ve asked him not to contact me again.
Back to Mrs Trellis’ adapted quote
I bought a replacement laburnum tree to replace the felled beauty in the graveyard and village elder, Islwyn helped me plant it
I found the whole thing rather moving
Happiness is indeed when old men plant a tree , the shade of which we will never sit in
Anyway
Dorothy passed a small plastic fish in her poo on Friday
It was popped on top of her turd like a cherry on a tart
The fish was one you find in sushi boxes filled with soy
Everyone in blogland seems to have gone seriously political or at least serious anyway.
I just can’t get going at all in any shape and form.
Yesterday I watched old dvds as it rained and rained
And only felt human after buying myself some Arctic Roll which I ate with cold custard from a massive serving spoon.
Today the girls and I went for breakfast at the Horizon cafe on Colwyn Bay Prom where I cut my finger rather badly after the barista dropped a milk jug onto the counter .
I hate fuss, but after I left a trail of blood worse than Tippi Hedren down that attic door so had to accept a botch first aid job from the proprietor with a roll of masking tape.
In between showers the girls have been jostling for the sunny position on the trendy blue sofa.
I have been making fat rascals for most of the morning
Between 1986 and 1989 I lived in the city of York . Before my late nursing shift start at 1 pm, I would often go to Betty’s tea rooms which is situated in St Helen’s square, to have myself a small Golden carafe of coffee and a fat rascal. There was a single table upstairs which I loved to sit in, where I would pretentiously read my book and scoff my rascal
This morning I made Fat Rascals for the very first time.
Now for those that don’t know a Fat Rascal is a cross between a scone and a bun; in actual fact it is a Rock cake which is filled with fruit, orange zest, whole bleached almonds and glacè cherries.
The last three ingredients make the rascal taste so good
They should be eaten warm with butter and should be large, two handed buns.
I made mine a little smaller than I’d like but they tasted Right Good when I tried them
Years after I had left York for Sheffield , I returned to the city to see some friends. Feeling all nostalgic for a Rascal, I turned left into the shop rather than the cafe and ordered six.
The shop waitress looked surprised at my request
I had ordered Six fat Bastards instead of Six Fat Rascals!!
She got the gist!
I will leave you with this short film called Alex And Jay
It’s a wonderfully acted piece which turns out quite charmingly
I’ve enrolled in another film study course, this one centred around exploration of gay themes within cinema.. it will keep me busy on Thursday nights.
Chic Eleanor has just messaged me, she has booked a table for dinner for us and some friends next week
“ Darling” the message read “ We are embarking on a new beginning”
I had painted half of the outside toilet ( which now houses my bike and lawn mower) when Mrs Trellis stopped to chat. She was in inquisitive mode, and wasn’t wearing her usual overly erect bobble hat She asked me what my long term plans were as she had heard through village gossip that I was about to leave Trelawnyd to live in Llandudno This tickled me I love village gossip. I reassured Mrs T that I had no long term plans And it’s true, I haven’t I haven’t got any major plans at all. Mrs Trellis frowned She didn’t know that I have a mortgage to pay until I am 72, and why would she? I told her, and joked, in true ostrich head in the sand tradition that I will face selling up and moving to a cheaper property when I have to and I will enjoy my home in the meantime . I laughed but Strangely she bit her lip and promptly burst into silent tears. This took me completely by surprise I leant over the kitchen wall but she stepped back a pace pulling Blue with her. I was touched by her sudden show of emotion . “Aren’t you worried about the future ?” She asked seriously “ No , “ I told her honestly ,” I’m here now , I’m enjoying work, I can just about pay my bills, I will face change when it happens !”
Mrs Trellis still looked worried “ I don’t want you leave “ she said rubbing her hands together
“ I’m not leaving just yet” I told her kindly
And I laughed loudly , forcing her to do the same .
