A Good Read

 I’ve read recently that Going Gently is now sanitized.

I guess it depends on what you understand the word to mean .

As a nurse sanitized means cleansed 

I will leave the debate there .

Today will be an indulgent and rare day for me as I will be reading

All day.

It’s book club tomorrow and I want to finish Three Hours by Rosamund Lupton

I’ve had to get up early though and have walked the dogs, blogged, straightened the house and tidied Bluebell

Only then can I allow myself to read and nothing else

Paradise Road-

I miss choir 

So tonight I watched the film Paradise Road,  a fictional account of the true story of Margaret Dryburgh a gentle hearted Scottish missionary who championed the prisoners of the Japanese  in WW2 Sumatra and formed a choir to raise morale 

Her story is an inspiration .

Look for the moment where the lumpy and always a burden Mrs Roberts ( Elizabeth Spriggs) gets the harmony right ….heartbreaking 

Enjoy

Valentines Day Flirt

There were eleven of us in my morning class on line.

The film class was interesting Horror Stereotypes with a heavy biased towards Jamie Lee Curtis

Three of the participants were from the US and one very attractive middle aged man was from New York and was drinking lots of coffee as it was 4.30 am over there.

His name was Richard and he wrote screenplays ( so he told us) 

He had a lovely thick beard, glowing American teeth and academic specs so he looked the part.

He also called out his name in his thick New York brougue ( before anyone else could when asked if we could introduce ourselves ) and added a rather friendly and flirtatious 

“ And who is that big handsome charmer on the love seat  John Gray?” 

I was flummoxed for a second as I had my second best Herbivore T shirt on as well as a cheap Sainsbury’s green hoodie and hadn’t even washed my face, but I started to preen at the potential prospect of an early morning Valentine’s Day flirt

Then I realised that the American was in fact referring  to Dorothy who was sat on the sofa behind me

Is it me?

 

Is it me ?

Or instead of one past-his-sale- by-date homosexual living a pretty hum drum single existence in a picturesque Welsh cottage 

Does it look ( and smell ) like four hormonal smelly teenage boys live in my house? 

Finishing nights, and after a few hours sleep , I’ve reviewed the wreckage .

Now some of the blame must be given to Roger who not only has gleefully stockpiled three discarded pairs of underpants in his crate but who managed to locate my new beard trimmer from inside a wash bag hidden underneath the bathroom sink and dismantle it over the living room Carpet when I was sleeping.

The rest of the mess , I’m afraid is down to me.

Cups and spoons clutter the kitchen tops, the bed looks like I’ve had a troupe of strippers in and I can’t even share what the bathroom looks like without an antiemetic 

On Friday the place was pristine 

Bugger knows how it happens

I took the dogs around to Trendy Carol’s when I did her shop ( she’s still got covid )  

And I made myself a late bucket of coffee before getting stuck in

Dusk

 Apart from walking the dogs in the middle of the day ,I’ve slept the whole Sunday.

I woke at 5.30 with Dorothy gazing at me like a worried Buster Keaton, had a shower , got dressed and took the dogs out again, this time with Albert in tow

I leave the cottage for work around 6.30.

It’s silent at our part of the village. I presume Mandy & Sailor John are busy with family and trendy Carol remains a bit poorly. Their houses are dark and quiet. 

Only mine shines a light.

We walk down the lane and I look at the sky 

It’s a Gone With The Wind red and looks magnificent .

It’s at these times solitude turns into loneliness but fleetingly so.

The time when you want to say to another human 

“ Look at that marvellous sky “

So Instead I photograph it 

And send it to you my friends here

And from now on, no one will sneak in a comment of how indulgently depressed I am being, or now inappropriate  it is to feel a feeling and share it .

I’m not depressed , or generally indulgent. ( no more that most regular bloggers I guess.) but I am sharing a feeling and this wonderful photograph of the sky

Taken over the cold fields of Trelawnyd Village on Sunday the 12th of February 2023

Before I leave for work.

Update

 Just to let everyone know 

Going Gently now has Comment Moderation which means your post comments may not be published immediately .

What I didn’t know, is that anonymous comments will be published as long as I sanction them 

I’m sorry for the wait in publication. 

Takashimaya

 

Over twenty years ago I walked onto Takashimaya the now long gone Japanese department store on 5th Avenue.
A beautifully dressed sales assistant was placing flowers, one by one into a glass vase of sparking water and she bowed her head in greeting.
I bowed mine in return and allowed myself to walk around one of the most exquisite shops I had ever seen.
It felt as if I’d come home.
On the fifth floor I bought a ridiculously expensive pair of glasses both of which had a delicately design etching of a lobster surrounded by tiny fish.
The pair have been two of my most cherished items for years
I fell in love with them as soon as I saw them.


Last night I told my dinner guest to dig out a glass for herself for her wine when I prepared the food.She picked the Takashimaya glass thinking it was the safest option as my much cheaper ( but more delicate looking wine glasses frightened her)
She noticed my look and offered to put the glass back immediately .
I refused.
It’s nice to see the glass used

As intended

Bum Itch

I’ve got a friend coming to stay later .

I’ve made a lasagne and treacle tart from scratch, but bought custard and nice Italian bread to accompany it. 

Mary disappeared from the garden whilst I was preparing the food and I eventually found her inside the old coal bunker where she had fallen through the opening.

She never thought to bark.

I’ve shopped again for Trendy Carol and planted out cheerful primulas in pots to brighten up the doorways 

It’s a Friday but feels like a Sunday.

There’s a burial in the Churchyard today.

Little news to report except that

I’ve burnt my bum on the toilet again 

After over bleaching the seat yesterday.

It’s itchy and sore