Finishing Touches

 It’s still very dry here.

Too dry for the garden flowers which have had a much needed water in order to keep their blooms .

The alliums and aquilegia have filled the borders as usual and I’ve tried to use every container I have to showcase little bursts of colour about the cottage. An old cast iron piece of guttering is now a hanging basket or sorts with little yellow eschscholzia growing in it. 

The sea pinks (armeria martima) in an old French egg basket have bloomed again and the sweet peas have filled an old galvanised bucket by the garden arch ready to climb alongside the wisteria which had returned more robustly than it did last year.

Even the Rosemary I squeezed into a burnt 1930s saucepan last autumn has held its own

I’ve no real news today.

My second covid swab was clear so I will be covering a sick colleagues’ shift on Sunday.

The CBM is here today and tomorrow 

The finishing touches are taking an age! 

Siân Owen’s clock

 

There is one historic painting that is synonymous with Wales and the Welsh culture and that is the Edwardian watercolour Salem painted, strange as it may seem, by an Englishman Sydney Curnow Vosper. 

I first saw a copy of the painting when I was around 18 , where it was proudly displayed in the house of an old girlfriend of mine. Her father was a Welsh Minister and the subject matter, the arrival (late) of a welsh woman Siân Owen to chapel is iconic for it is a depiction of  Welsh religious piety as well as a beautiful rendition of Welsh traditional dress. 

It’s also more famous for it’s suggested depiction of the devil’s face, hidden in the folds of Siân’s rather luxurious shawl. This “ hidden” message was only one of three or so said to present in the painting . 

The clock on the wall hints that Siân’s entry to her family pew is  late and and it’s is said that her beautifully adorned entrance is a comment about pride and ostentatious dress.

If you look closely there is also a ghostly face at the chapel window too. 

I have seen the painting at the Lady Lever Art Gallery in Port Sunlight a few years ago so I understood the reference to the artist and to Siân Owen when villager elder Gwyneth Jones once stood in my front room waiting for me to wrap her some duck eggs into a brown paper bag and I remember well that she pointed to my grandfather clock and said in her thin welsh voice

“ It’s the clock in the painting “ she explained “ The sister painting to Salem” 

The painting she was referring to is “ A Market Day in Old Wales” which shows Siân Owen unpacking eggs and provisions in her welsh country kitchen and in the corner is my Grandfather clock complete with scrolls and pillars 

The Clock’s  scrolls are hidden by the beams 

:

My cottage ceiling is somewhat higher but still shows the beams 

Accessories

 

A quiet day today, as CBM is off taking his missus to the airport.

No more Whitney Houston no more Pet Shop Boys belting out in a Geordie accent.

The sun is out but there is a cool breeze and the cottage windows are wide front and back making the honeysuckle curtains in the front room sway energetically.

I left the ignition on in Bluebell  yesterday so had a flat battery this morning. 

As usual Islwyn came to the  rescue and jump started her for me. 

I gave Bluebell a good run, and recharged nicely dropped in to the garden centre for a final smooch for bathroom accessories like any middle aged gay man worth his salt would do.

To add to the black and white theme, I bought  some houseplants and planters there, a penguin designed toothbrush and some “bespoke” soap were delivered from Amazon today

It’s all a bit much I know, but I don’t care, I’m having fun.

My elder sister popped around yesterday with sweet pea plants, hostas and tomato plants which I will put into the garden this afternoon. She also bought me A White Company scented candle for the new bathroom. 

Quite a few people are getting vicarious pleasures from this makeover…

Hey ho. 

Ps it’s my fifth day post positive swab today ….it’s negative I have to test again tomorrow 

Clint

This is my very favourite moment in the entire Dinnerladies series

 

What’s Schnell in Welsh ?

I’m isolating at home and isolating from the CBM

I’m a social pariah all told. 

With his lovely tendency of wanting to chat, even though I’m in the next room, I’ve taken myself off for a long walk on Colwyn Bay prom , where I can utilise the WiFi and drink coffee safely alone , my face freshened in the wind. 

And he can finish the tiling 

At the next table there is a group of ten who are having a conversation in German .

It’s sort of learn German by chatting group , but because of the off shore wind everyone seems to be shouting and the whole thing feels like a German war film  which has given me a fit of the giggles 

I’m waiting for “ Raus !!! Schnell !!!”

I missed choir last night. Jamie ( RAF moustache etc) sent us all a link which features the choir on a Welsh  mental health radio programme.

We don’t sound half bad…..and our piece is featured around 8 minutes in 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m001767h

Schnell in welsh is Cyflym btw

Pig Pen

I haven’t had a shower since Saturday 

A strip wash in the kitchen sink hasn’t helped that much 

I forgot the soap which is hidden under tons of detritus in the spare bedroom, so had to use fairy liquid.

I now have a citrus burst kinda smell coupled with an odd slightly slimy feeling skin

Once on, fairy liquid feels like swarfega to get off

When I was growing up in the late 60s it was normal just to have one Bath a week

Nowadays you are considered sub human if you even contemplated such a feat.

The CBM had just arrived singing Whitney Houston’s I Just Wanna Dance with Somebody 

He’s tiling today

I’ve made the most of my covid lockdown by cleaning windows, gardening and scrubbing the patio .

The old linen fabric of koi carp that I ordered online was delivered and I framed two pieces of it as the basis of the artwork for the bathroom.

Thoughts? Too much fish? Too muted ? 

 

When You Believe…let’s move on

Let’s move on 

I’m a sucker for a big finish ….

Ohhh err missus 

Mave and flis say nothing 

This song  is the best thing from the rather dire musical Prince Of Egypt 

The girl singing in Hebrew is delightful 

I’d love to sing it in choir ….

It would give us shivers 

I play it loud in the kitchen often , especially when next door’s Charlie is yapping

I’ve had to cancel choir for tomorrow night 😥 …I have to re swab on Thursday 

Today  was an odd day because I spent most of it at home. 

I’ve not spent much time alongside CBM but he has spent his working day working hard and singing hits from the 1980s which I found rather endearing.

I spent the day keeping out of his way.

I cleaned bluebell, cut the lawn, locked myself in my bedroom and cleaned every inch of it, before rearranging the inside of kitchen cabinets.fridge and attic store.

Mrs Trellis stopped and we had a long distanced chat about the church. She has been a lady of letters recently and has been complaining bitterly at its closure. 

She wants to know what the Church is going to do with the historic and village centric items from inside the building, especially the war memorial and the famous I am painting .

She also told me that she had voted for me in the community council elections and was surprised that I wasn’t successful 

I informed her out of the six new entrant nominees three had managed to get onto the council thus balancing it out nicely. It was never our expectation that all six would get in over the old guard.

Mrs Trellis’ eyes went wide

Suddenly understanding the extent of our attempted “coup”

The gang of six has been the centre of much village gossip for a few weeks now

Tee hee.

Oh btw Chic Eleanor ( right) and her sister are in Peru doing a sponsored bike ride for the Alzheimer’s association ….chic by name, chi by nature x

Ps the bathroom looks LOVELY 

It may be finished by Friday 

A Note From The Editor

 

Last night’s blogging was a rather unpleasant experience.

And generally blogging shouldn’t be.

Life is hard enough sometimes without snide asides, finger pointing and bad tempers.

I’ve been accused  of being everything from an unfair blog host and a bad friend, to being Walter Mitty crossed with Vladimir Putin. 

One commentator even called me promiscuous 

An epithet I never managed to live up to even when I had a 34 inch waist and underpants to die for.

Now can I make a few things clear. 

I am a poor blogger in some ways, I will admit that.

I don’t always read every comment 

I will sometimes miss a thread or an insult but unlike most of you out there I do work full time and so I don’t have the time to forensically review every one of my words, let alone the comments of others.

Going Gently is my journal and my company. It’s my go to place and is a bit of a sanctuary 

I don’t invite people to insult me in my own home, so I except the same courtesy here. 

I may disagree with other blog writers on their home turf , and

Contrary to some’s belief , I never mind being disagreed with here on Going Gently 

But there’s always a polite way to do it without it being a mission in life.

It’s a fucking blog for God’s Sake

Nothing more. 

So there you have it. 

I’m not perfect but I will always endeavour to be fair where comments are involved. 

If I fail and anger you , all I can say is  I’m sorry you are angry, I don’t go out of my way to upset anyone.

I don’t live my life like that so why would I knowingly live my blogging life the same way.

I am almost 60 years old,

I am reasonably emotionally intelligent when understanding my own motivations , foibles and prejudices 

And when I want advice, I am rather good at asking for it.

Anyhow If you don’t like the way I blog….

Tough titty, it’s how I do it, warts and all, mistakes and all, inconsistencies and all

If you don’t like it. Just don’t read it .

Ps comments have been disabled for 24 hours 

If anyone would like to discuss anything I’ve written further please do so privately on jgsheffield@hotmail.com