Trick or Treat

 One little zombie knocked on the door tonight and I had nothing for her, not even a pound coin.

I didn’t recognise her from the village but told her to come back for a treat.

She said she would 

Last night’s egging of the cottage has grown a little more menacing as I found later today that Bluebell was targeted too and four solar garden lights and a planter fully of fading geraniums were stolen .

Tonight the planters on the garden wall were pushed over, smashing two and with the dogs barking I was out quick sticks but saw nothing. 

I’ve had four home phone calls too, all hang ups with no numbers available 

It’s all feeling a bit personal now

Egging

 I’ve collected the last of the garden flowers this morning and placed them in a small vase on the window ledge.

Someone egged the kitchen windows and the back of the cottage last night. With five or six eggs all told 

It was around ten pm. I heard the dogs barking in the kitchen thought it was the stray cat trying to be through the cat flap again

Most had hit the cottage render rather than the windows but it was a devil to get off the glass

I wonder why it was done, no trick or treaters around

And the car has been egged too, I’ve just noticed …and several of my solar lights in the back garden are missing

Bros

 Gay Rom Com Mainstream American movies are as rare as hens teeth

Rom coms are sanitized by the nature of the beast so a Rom com that features all aspects of the LGBTQ+ rainbow, which includes throuples, grindr sex, and the like seems a bit of a challenge.

The Rom com itself centres upon Bobby  a loud, brittle but generally self reliant gay history museum curator ( played by Billy Eichner ) he meets shirtless beefcake lawyer Aaron ( Luke Macfarland) and the usual boy finds boy, boy looses boy, boy finds boy formula starts against a backdrop of a sassy script, sharp observations of the modern gay lifestyle and a pride of what’s gone on in the past. 

The comedy is sweet enough ( ultimately a little too sentimental) which is a surprise given the drug taking, sex filled, and shallow lives the leads are shown to live. 

But Eichner and Macfarland do have a nice chemistry on screen and by the end I was shedding a tear, not only when the two finally get together to agree to “date monogamously  “ but when friends of the couple , each, not surprisingly,  representing each part of the LGBTQ+ community ( and obligatory straight best friend) joyously dance together at a museum party,

A lovely scene of inclusivity 

Sunday

 

Look closely and you can see the remains of the nest

The weather has changed and everyone’s heating is on today. 

The wind is from the South West and has been strong enough to loosen the rook’s nest in the last remaining living ash in the graveyard. 

Parts of it, we watched fall during a quick walk.

Incidentally I found parts of my blue plastic earphones in Roger’s poo

I wondered where they had gone.

I’ve done little in 24 hours, only going out to the garage to buy my tearful neighbour a pick me up bag of treats, a few flowers, ice cream, chocolate raisins and 2 gossip magazines.

We all need a treat when we are fed up.

I’ve watched this weeks Bake off and this week’s Walking Dead and needing a bit of company texted a friend to see if they wanted to see the gay rom com BROS later today 

They will……hurrah 

I popped into my Ruth/Ben/John messenger group earlier after I heard the tragic news from Seoul. Ben lives there with his family and a few virtual hugs were shared as they told us that they are all ok. 

I miss working with them both 

The Goonies is playing on sky , but I couldn’t watch it…far too much shouting for my liking.

Older

 

I woke around 3.15 pm yesterday afternoon, which was far too early.

I heard the tinkle of water and for a moment lay in bed with Dorothy’s fat face smiling at me.

I rolled over and looked at the floor to see Roger merrily peeing inside one of my work shoes.

Beyond caring I rolled back over and slept until after 4 pm when I had to get up. 

I’m not an elastic band any more

We are all getting older 

That little nugget of philosophy seeped into my head soon after when I was chatting to a villager with a poorly spouse. Dorothy as usual was playing up as my friend was shedding a tear of worry and remained a pain when she actually snapped the chewed bit off her lead in sheer boredom when unfortunately poorly Meirion showed up so wanting to share his exciting news of a forthcoming  cholecystectomy. 

Some like Animal Helper Pat and Mrs Trellis have a sort of eternal youth about them, but as they pass the cottage, battling wind and rain and energetic dogs , some others are now looking their age and are slowing up or looking more bowed or grey.

Village Elder Islwyn still wears his yellow workman’s gear around the village but isn’t seen with his spade in hand as much as he was, and Mr Poznan cannot be viewed stilling straight on the village green as often as he once was, sat with hands resting on the top of his stick like Gandalf the Wizard.

I was a slimmer brunette when when I came to Bwthyn y Llan .

Now I kind of waddle and have my father’s hair. 

I have blogged for over sixteen years now and I’m worrying that I could have heard the last from The Weaver of Grass who was with me at the start of my journey here as she has been at the start of many such journals.

Let The Right One In

 

My fugue state of yesterday irritated me greatly

It was time for a bra strap hike

And so I took advantage of a friend’s insomnia and a quiet hour at work and arranged for us to meet in a couple of weeks time in Manchester. I’ve booked us a good deal in a hotel , a nice table at Mowgli and tickets to see Let The Right One In at the Royal Exchange . ( a theatre production of the hit Swedish film of the same name ) a play which has excellent reviews on line.

Something to look forward to, even though I can’t really afford it.

But we will go Dutch.

That’s the ticket.

Blogland has not heard from The Weaver Of Grass for a week or so. And messages are slowly starting to build on her blog asking if all is well. I hope it is . My thoughts are with her.

Checking The Boundary

 I’m not sure what I’m all about today.

It’s a nothing day as I’m back on nights. This time doing my own and not a colleague’s who had been delayed in the beautiful looking Sicily. 

I’m mourning my cancelled trip to Italy and will organise one as soon as I can afford it .

I’m sat at the kitchen table and the almond milk in my bucket of coffee has curdled. 

The oven is purring and I’m going to be making soup soon

Butternut squash, bean and chilli 

I can hear pawsteps from the bathroom

Soon Roger will jog purposefully through the kitchen and into the garden. He will do a figure of eight around the paths, give a half woof at the gate, then will watch the blackbirds or a sparrow for a while, or the bantam cockerel who still lives in the gardens west of the Church before bouncing back to the kitchen. He will stop for a head rub before sitting in the sunny spot on the living room carpet with the others. 

An hour or so later he will be off on his rounds if I haven’t gathered the troops first. 

Checking each room upstairs , before walking through the cottage and garden.

He does his rounds checking the safely of his home.

I change the radio from a depressing talk radio to the relative cheerfulness of radio 2 ( Tom Chaplin Overshoot) and I add bulbs of garlic to the roasting butternut squash. I can see crumbs lurking defiantly on the work tops. Peeking out from behind knife blocks, underneath trivets, and my Italian Moka maker.

They tease me everyday even though I damp dust everywhere each day.

The home phone has just rung. It never rings anymore. 

A scam call from Microsoft. 

I asked the call handler if his mother was proud of what he did for a living

He hung up on me

I didn’t feel any better for my comment. 

I don’t feel sad today. Just a bit flat 

Do you know the flat place where your mind wanders like a fat bee on a buddliea bush.

I wonder what my ex husband is doing. I miss him.

Then I tell myself off for feeling lonely before adding stock cubes and more water to the simmering soup 

The cottage suddenly smells of food and Dorothy ambles in sucking her gums hopefully.

It’s almost two now. 

I chase the aforementioned crumbs with a damp cloth, 

Added the roasted squash to the soup and put it on slow simmer.

And fiercely washed my face at the kitchen sink using the Molton Brown handwash Nigel had given me

It smells so go I may use it in the shower later.

Roger has just trotted out into the garden again

His home is safe and he’s content it is with a satisfied snort 

Belinda Carlisle’s True Heaven Is A Place On Earth is playing on the radio.

I ladled the soup, which I thickened with udon noodles minutes ago

It was bloody , BLOODY lovely 

The Repair Shop

I adore The Repair Shop 

What’s not to like ? A motley group of sweet experts who fix people’s dreams by repairing their broken family pieces in a single swift effort to connect old grief to some sort of comfort.

It’s lovely

And a real sob fest

Today we had King Charles, publicising his passion for apprentice work in the bespoke arts and crafts and it was a joy to see Jay Blades chatting away to him as an old mate, hand on shoulder.

King Charles is a nice guy

With passions of worth