Prima Facie

 

I’m a bit breathless 

Prima Facie , the filmed play by Suzie Miller has left me thoughtful and somewhat shaken . 

A one woman show, it has Jodie Comer playing, Tessa an incredibly successful criminal barrister in London. Tessa has made good from her working class Liverpudlian roots and by using every trick in her considerable arsenal she has proved herself to be especially adept in defending men in sexual assault cases. Now Tessa clearly proclaims that she always works to prove the legal truth in her cases and this is a game to point out the holes in the prosecutions case and this game is a game she is good at.

However, when she is assaulted herself, by a potential boyfriend who is also a successful barrister, she is left to fight a paternalistic legal system weighted against her as a woman. 

Comer is truly remarkable as Tessa. With real Liverpudlian timing she hits her delivery with true machine gun zeal and that pace is maintained full speed  for two hours straight. 

I couldn’t quite believe she maintained the pace and the emotion throughout 

Stunning.

Quite Stunning

Watering Rabbits

 The thunderstorms which have been promised haven’t materialised. Subsequently the ground is dry as a bone and the grass on the field is like straw, yellow and burnt.

I climbed up the field gate and over the church wall. 

It wasn’t a pretty sight. 

All arse and groaning!!!

I refilled the shallow enamelled dish with water, the one I’d placed out a week ago to water the rabbits, then watered my laburnum which is looking healthy and happy. 

It took the rabbits a few days to feel safe with the dish and it’s satisfying watch them, a whole gaggle of birds and the stray white cat drinking from it, especially at dusk.

The dish, laburnum ( top right) and the historic thirteenth century church prayer cross on the top left

I’ve done a pile of paperwork today. Bought a new washing machine on line and measured the outside of the cottage for the CBM who will be designing a roof for the patio before autumn . 

I’m about the embark on downsizing the spare room which is in drastic need of simplifying . 

I want it streamlined and simple.

Ready for becoming a proper study for September’s course

Ness Gardens

My friend Colin and I met, like two middle class ladies sometimes do , for lunch and a mooch around Ness Gardens .

The place was more or less deserted 

 I bought a white agapanthus from the shop

Epiphany

What’s the pleural of epiphany? 

Whatever the answer maybe, I think I’ve had a succession of “small” epiphanies since my birthday and beyond.

When I really think of it, when life changed after lockdown was the real start of it all.

When I say epiphanies, what I really mean is ideas and thoughts which have flickered like Christmas Tree fairy lights in and out of my consciousness until they figure more importantly than not in everyday life.

Many of these became clearer after my brief break in Findhorn and the age old red letter day of reaching my 60th birthday.

The overall sense of these flickering lights is that I’m now embarking on that final decade(s) of my life and it’s now time for proper change.

My father died in his early sixties, my brother at 58 and I’m very aware of my mortality in real terms 

Now I’m fully aware that since my husband left me, I have built a new life and career for myself from more or less nothing. I am financially more stable than I’ve been for years , I have saved my home and have made a passable social life for myself through and despite covid but things haven’t been quite enough for me. 

There has to be more.

There IS more

Pushing myself mentally and academically is one new start and is an important one for me.

Letting go of nursing is another.

And finally letting go of the old ghosts of my marriage is the final and most vital bit of the jigsaw.

He has gone, and I know why.

The next decade has to change totally.

Mentally, physically and socially and for the first time , in a very very long time in my life 

I’m ready for more change.

Like I said , this could be my last decade 

And only I am in the driving seat 

A Town Like Alice

 

Filmed obviously in 1956 ( continuity forgot to period dress the cast) this little remembered movie of the famous Shute novel proved to be a little hidden gem this morning. Set in Malaya during the war it centres around the plight of a group of English women and children forced to March across the country in search of a prisoner of war camp which will house them.

Marie Lohr as Mrs Dudley Frost

Renee Houston as Ebbey

Virginia McKenna plays the groups pragmatic leader is supported ably by a whole gaggle of British character actors such as Jean Anderson, Marie Lohr, Renee Houston and Nora Nicholson.who play the typical cross section of colonial types later poached by the the series Tenko.

It’s a cracking movie, which steals only part of the novel which really concentrates on the love affair between McKenna’s character and a bravura Australian squaddie Peter Finch who is eventually crucified by a sadistic Japanese Captain Yanyata.

I really enjoyed it and was kind of sad when it finished before midday.

Since then , I’ve just mooched. The dogs are listless and bored in the heat and there are jobs that need doing but I don’t feel like starting anything

I’m making a list of them 

Salad with pomegranate seeds and mango for tea

Choir later

Late Dog Walk

 

Dorothy swam in a river in Dyserth  this evening in an effort to keep cool.

It was almost dark when she dived in with eyes closed

Mary stayed by my side , pursing her lips.

I haven’t been so proud since I attended my ex husbands doctorate graduation 

She swam like a baby hippo, head held high, sharp doggy paddle, big smile on her face 

And it totally made my week, if not my month when she struck out from the bank like a professional.

I never knew the daft old girl could do water like an otter

But she did and like a new dad , it made my day.

And I cried silly tears as she eventually made for shore.

Smiling like a loon

She’s now snoring loudly dripping the blue trendy sofa in water

Chatty Cathy

Bluebell tells be its 95 degrees in old money 

Which is too hot by anyone’s money

Constance

It’s been almost 30 degrees here yesterday and just too hot for bulldogs outside.

This will be a “ Chatty Cathy” kind of blog today.

I took the dogs for an early walk and that will be it until tonight after dusk.

For those that remember Constance ( my first rescue bulldog) they may recall that she died walking on only a mildly warm day. She was an old dog, who had health issues , but the heat could well have been a factor in her death and I will never take that chance again, never

https://disasterfilm.blogspot.com/2011/08/you-give-your-heart-to-dog-to-tear.html

I couldn’t get off to sleep so found a Valium tablet left over from my husband’s  nervous flyer days in the medicine box and slept the sleep of the dead until it was ready for work. I  took magnum ice creams in for day and night staff when I came on duty as a bit of a morale booster and as the hospice has no air con in the patient areas we have set up fans throughout the building corridors which now has a cooling rush of breeze about them.

I am reminded of the convent in Black Narcissus 

It’s all very comfortable if a little breezy.

I was due to collect Roger tomorrow , but it is a long drive to Alfreton and I just knew his breeder would cancel because of the heat . I’ve provisionally rearranged for the 1st of August. She describes him as “ Smart but cuddly”

Now I have five days off……part time status is hitting home just a little. 

Whooooo hooooo

I’ve enrolled in the counselling course which starts in September and have sent all the paperwork off as well as the fees so that’s another box ticked. 

The rest of the week has been organised with my typical and no doubt irritating detail

Choir returns tomorrow , Wednesday it’s Ness Gardens for a mooch and lunch with a friend and Thursday Ive got tickets to the filmed version of Jodie Comer’s hit play Prima Facie 

Friday my sister and I are going to the Grovensor Park Open Air Theatre to see Little Women which will be frothy fun all told.

Check Out

 I get very exasperated at supermarket check outs

I always have.

Women tend to wind me up the most, as it is common for them not to have their payment cards ready when the cashier states the cost of a shop. 

We then have to suffer the whole rigmarole of the where’s my handbag ? face.

The unzipping of the bag, the fishing for the purse and the shuffling for the cards go next and before we can proceed the whole procedure has to bet into reverse before they can start loading bags into trolleys.

I try to look away before any of the dithering starts 

But it’s like a car crash, 

You can’t look away.

Yesterday, I was stood behind an older couple ( 65 perhaps) where she verbalised to her henpecked hubby where every item was to be placed and in which bag. To be honest I only noticed when I caught the cashier’s gaze, who was desperately trying not to smile and conspiratorially we watched the drama unfold until the husband finally offered the wrong bag up for filling and his wife slapped the bag away with her hand

In a fit of pique, the husband waved his arms above his head and stormed off snapping “You cow” leaving the wife to do the where’s my handbag? thing as well as proclaiming I don’t know what’s that all about.

I didn’t look at the cashier until the woman was walking away and we then both burst into giggles 

“ I’m very tired “ the cashier said in way of explanation. “ But that poor man”

We giggled some more.

I tell you this small tale on the back of a now deleted post by Rachel Philips who shared a funny and well written post about how singletons can inflate health worries to Diva- esque levels when they are alone in the house without the constraints and common sense sense of a companion. 

The cashier was the only person I had spoken to all day. 

And therefore the joke, the shared humanity of the altercation 

Was even more important and significant.

The scene between us, a wonderfully timed conspiratorial bit of fun.