Thank you all for your suggestions in yesterday’s post. They have galvanised me somewhat for next weeks sub committee meeting which was running the risk of being overwhelmed of what we can’t do instead of looking of what we can do.
I’ve reflected long and hard over this recently .
That’s why I’m attracted to warm “ can do” personalities
The negative ones, walk to the beat of my mother’s “can’t do “ old drum
That’s why I’m trying to distance myself from those with negative energy
You know the sort….people that can suck the life blood from a lemon without really trying.
I just don’t want to deal with it .
Anyhow, Tonight I’m off to the theatre clwyd to see the play When Darkness Falls.which is described by the Guardian as being able , to leave you cowering in your seat!
Ooh arhhh
I’m going on my own , which is fine.
I need to get out tonight and can’t always rely on the company of friends.
I will leave you with the above song by November Ultra
A song which was playing this morning on the radio, when Mary was sat on my knee bumming toast crusts.
She’s getting on now, and is slower, slightly arthritic and more cranky than her pack mates.
And for a couple of minutes we danced slowly around the kitchen together to this tune ,
I am one of the trustees for the Trelawnyd Community Association which is a charity .
It’s “official remit is as follows
The TCA was formed in 2018 by a group of friends to try and enhance social cohesion and reduce loneliness in our small rural village. The aim was to provide activities, entertainment and education as well as advocacy and help for those that needed it
A recent subgroup of the charity has been formed to take on the running of the Memorial Hall, a building which given the recent financial crash , has proved to be an expensive place to run. I am a member of the sub committee which is in the process of marketing and fundraising for the hall.
One of my ideas is to make use of the buildings massive windows
There are five in the hall proper , each with 48 individual panes of glass in it.
That’s 336 panes of glass in total.
I was thinking that we could offer each of the panes out for sponsorship , in memory of a loved one and that person’s name could be memorialised on a plaque or on the window itself
After all the Hall itself was built at the turn of the century by Michael Ralli, in memory of his wife Polynmia
Sponsoring a pane for say 30£ Could earn the hall over 10, 000£
The choice of film wasn’t good this afternoon Women Talking was worthy and painful and an acting masterclass but boy was it grim .
So today, the lightest moment came from Roger
Two male blackbirds have been fighting in the garden with pre spring hormones and Roger, fascinated in the fisticuffs sat himself comfortably in the kitchen doorway to watch them for an absolute age
I photographed him and realised I love him even more than I thought I did
I gave the dogs an extra long walk this afternoon then came to Chester where I treated myself to a beef pitta, coffee strong enough to blow your tits off and a film.
The film is Women Talking .
Sarah Polley’s version of Miriam Toews’ novel which tells the true story of a group of Mennonite Women in an isolated Bolivian community, is a serious watch. A grim and talky piece with a stella cast, has the women beaten, sexually abused and degraded by their men folk.
Taking what time they have together, the women young and old have to decide whether to fight the abuse from within the community, acquiesce to it, or escape to form a new life , albeit one which is excommunicated from their community . The parallels with Weinstein’s Hollywood are only too clear.
Claire Foy shines with anger as Salome as does Rooney Mara and the powerhouse Jessie Buckley and their scenes are compelling to watch but, after a while the film feels as though it’s constrained and is what it is ….a sort of filmed play
How strange it was that yesterday , I found myself thinking of Auntie Gladys
I posted a blog about her , months and months after I had done so before
She crept into my head like she often did when she lived in the village,
Vital, and with purpose
Her milky blue eyes, smiling, unless you vexed her.
Aunty Glad’s daughter messaged me this morning. To tell me that Gladys had died yesterday just a couple of months short of 103. She commented on the timing of my post.
How strange it was.
I took a moment to take the news in.
How strange that a woman in her 80s and 90s could have such an effect on a middle aged gay man who was new to her village .
She was my friend from the day I met her and she accepted me and my husband without falseness so common in many long term churchgoers.
I remember her walking to the cottage to give me a wedding gift when she was 95 and added to it a bag of scones , fresh from the oven. Her head to one side,, looking smart in her winter coat she made her way back to her home after refusing a lift home .
“ I like to get my face to the sun” she explained “ God bless You Both”
I need to go to the village Hall now, it’s the soup and roll lunchtime
