Going Gently

Sex at Bwthyn Y Llan

Bwthyn y Llan has never been a hot bed of sin to be sure.

Ok, I’ve had my moments, this is true, but Don Juan is not a nickname the neighbours have or will ever give me.

I’ve booked Roger in for his castration in January and after a couple of years of barren wilderness

Dorothy is now suddenly in full season.

Subsequently Roger has become a panting, blob of hairy jelly and Dorothy has suddenly morphed into Rita Hayworth in Gilda.

The air is electric , and filled with eager panting and lots of come hither looks.

It’s like a soft pot video with 12 nipples and fur.

I met my sister in law for lunch today at Bryn Williams and took Roger with me . He sulked like a teen and only perked up when walking back to the cottage to see Dorothy flashing her toilet parts at him through the cat flap with a lascivious look on her face

Chatter

This morning I took Roger to Porth Eirias where I met my friend Polly for lunch at Bryn Williams

By 3 pm I felt all talked out after at least seven hours solid chatter since Colin arrived yesterday.

I needed the company of friends this weekend

After lunch Roger and I braved the Promenade wind and now, as it’s approaching four , the dogs , Albert and I are heaped untidy bundles on the coach as the fire roars.

We underestimate the therapy which is chatter.

And when I say chatter, I’m talking about that proper two way interaction with friends .

The mixing of ideas, serious one and the frivolous , the sharing of confidences ,silliness and laughter.

It makes you feel more human

Doesn’t it?

Bog Disaster

The thaw has started and my outside toilet exploded.

I’d missed the fact that the toilet had frozen over totally.

Well as usual I’m gilding the lily a little but the connection into the cistern had completely blown off and the water was spraying up over the ceiling and had flooded the floor and the patio by the time I’d found it.

The stop cock , is located behind the toilet and I’d stored some electric heaters and other crap in the loo so I was soaked to the skin before the deluge was stopped

My screams sent the dogs scurrying upstairs .

How I didn’t electrocute myself God knows

I missed this mornings Christmas Fayre as a result

Sods law.

I’m not too pissed off..

The Fayre was a great success btw, I loved the fact that as part of their remit , the community Association and villager Jo sorted out free food for all from the Olio food waste app.

Apologies for my absence everyone.

Free food for Trelawnyd villagers

I’ve just been stuffing a chicken with sweet onions and garlic

I’m making a comfort meal for my friend Colin tonight,

I’ve made creamed cabbage, pork stuffing with apples and garlic mash potato

I’ve not enough oven space so I’ve bought Yorkshire puds ( I know!!!!)

But I’ll make gravy with sloe jelly to fill them

I love cooking for someone

Meatloaf and Bobble Hats

It is Gorgeous Dave’s birthday today .

He didn’t tell me until we had met in Chester

We went to Chester Cathedral to see no less than three Meatloaf tribute singers from the west end singing a selection of his hits by candlelight,

The gothic cathedral was packed, mostly by people my age with bobble hats on, which was all a bit surreal

It was lovely to be out and doing something. I owe him

I loved it and sang along with all of the sad ballads For Crying Out Loud , Heaven Can Wait, Two out of Three ain’t bad, Lost Boys and Golden Girls songs I grew up loving much more than I ever did with the more popular Bat out of Hell

“Not the best sing to be belting out in a cathedral “ noted Gorgeous Dave

Tomorrow is the village Christmas Fayre and my dear friend Colin is coming over from Liverpool for dinner…

Clip

I’ve posted this short video, purely because it intrigued and pleased me

The chanting could almost be African rather than Scottish

Amazing

Enjoy

At The Movies

My problem with me is that I often want to see life as a movie.

I have always been the same.

Ever since I was a little boy and Shelley Winters got stuck up that Christmas Tree in The Poseidon Adventure.

Like Shelley, things were always larger than life.

I’ve joined an LGBT+ reading club in Chester, and the organise Alison has confirmed my application with a sweet email but I know that there is a part of me that is expecting the first meeting to be a little like The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, what with Dawsey Adam’s hole filled jumper and Isola Pribby’s sweetly dotty spinster.

Of course it won’t be, but I know that

I get it.

Certain scenes in my life do have a cinematic resonance to them.

And we all experience these, do we not?

Dancing on the roof of Weston Park Hospital with friends one night in 1990 would have made a delightful vignette for any coming of age movie staring Molly Ringwold and John Cusack.

Christmas Morning 2002 when me, The Prof and two dogs climbed all over each other in a hug fest that told me I had my own family for the first time in my life could have graced James L Brooks’ Terms of Endearment .and My Grandmother calling out “ My Poor Poor Boy “ when she saw his coffin in Church would have sent an icy chill over any audience watching Meryl Streep in Sophie’s Choice.

The film clips stand. But life isn’t a movie.

We plod along

Today nurses will strike in Wales for the first time in welsh history

The postmen have already marched out and the rail drivers will go next week.

It’s all a bit serious, but at least I can smile as Mrs Trellis’s erect bobble hat can muster a few laughs aka Mrs Pumphrey in All Creatures Great And Small

Reality lies , as it always seems to do, between the too worlds .

The ordinary and the cinematic

My meatballs looked lovely but were hard as bullets

Albert peed on the carpet for the third time yesterday morning

And I did get a distinction for my first assignment, feedback lying somewhere in Google classroom.

Hey ho