Coco

People can be rather sniffy about animated films, but I think the above clip clearly shows what little works of art they can be.

Last night I watched Coco the Disney/Pixar Mexican themed romp set on the festival Night of the Dead and it’s evident now that casting now in all films is country appropriate .

To me this doesn’t  quite go far enough as I think the film could have been made in Spanish with subtitles but America just doesn’t do subtitles .

Albert And Winnie

On the back of yesterday’s post 

I wanted to remind and share this photo of Albert and Winnie

Taken six years ago now

Albert absolutely adored this fat old benign creature 

With a passion 

They would often lie together on the lounge floor , with Albert cradling her face with sheathed paws

And with her putting up with the attention with grace and alacrity 

His affection was all consuming and totally unexplained 

After she died( playing with a silly rubber chicken )

He sat between her fat old paws on the kitchen floor 

And didn’t move until Sailor John from next door and I removed her body

two hours later 

 

Pond

 Yesterday Village Leader Helen, asked for some help in auditing the wildlife at the pond. Fourteen of us turned up , just enough to scare most of anything brave enough to show its face, but I was happy to grab the net on a stick first and revisit those childhood memories of playing in water.

It was rather fun identifying the monsters of the deep.

I enjoyed it so much that I returned to the pond on my own this morning to continue to root around like a fat old Gerald Durrell ,

And I saw meadow brown butterflies, a large white butterfly. Black beetles, ponds. Ayers, water slaters, and a whirligig beetle. 

Beers and storytelling followed the initial audit

The Last Walk Of The Day

For the very first time in weeks now, Albert followed us on our last walk of the day.

It’s been a nice day all told, ( I will tell you about the Pond Audit tomorrow) and I wanted to get home ready for The Archers so a little early I led the dogs down the lane for a mooch. 

It was Dorothy that stopped, lifting her head to stare up back at the cottage corner , and around the corner came Albert. He was slow, very slow, and noticeably thinner than he was,  his characteristic limp also much evident, but down the lane he came, silently rubbing heads with each dog in turn as he slowly lapped us.

He’s not long for this Earth, I know

But seeing him gamely following us tonight, and his weary return home five minutes later than us, gave me a proud lump in my throat 

 

Nu’s Birthday

This photo was taken exactly five years ago.

Nuala’s birthday in Kenmare in Ireland 

I was at my lowest ebb ever then and she kept my head above water as best friends always do 

Happy Birthday Nu 

I love you so much 

After Elias

 In the end I couldn't change our Les Miserables tickets on line. so had to speak to a real human being at the Sondheim theatre box office called Toby

He was dreadfully sweet and told me that I was only one of hundreds of theatre goers who he will be talking to today. The strikes have reduced the audiences by half for some nights, he told me and my sob story was just one of many. 

" We were just getting back on our feet too" he chirped sadly

I've rebooked for October

I didn't get much sleep yesterday. The weather was lovely and everyone seemed out and about. Animal Helper Pat stopped for ages for a chat. she's off with family cruising around the Med soon, which sounds delightful. and has been busy with her WI and Church activities. I reminded her of the bring and by sale next Saturday but she already has a plant sale planned

she looked well.

Mrs Trellis stopped next sans bobble hat. she seemed more  preoccupied with her own thoughts than usual and didn't stop long. As didn't Islwyn who called the dogs in turn for a cuddle at the garden wall.

I fell asleep at the kitchen table with my forehead on my arms, only walking a  short while later feeling like the Wreck of the Hesperus

Tomorrow ( now today) I will sleep in after a dog walk then I will venture over to Chester to meet an old friend Nigel for a late lunch and a chat.

This week, at Gay Book Club  I had a small row with cis gay man I will call Martin

Like me he is a powerful character who knows his own mind.

he is young, perhaps 25 and is arch to the point of rudeness and often will argue a point for the sake of arguing. 

He owns his own clothing business.

 

we were reviewing the rather moving novel After Elias by Eddy Boudal Tan which is about a gay fiancé of a dead pilot who has to piece together a complicated aftermath of a plane crash which killed his husband to be and 300 passengers, when Martin dismissed one of the women's comments of how she was moved to tears by its opening chapter as sentimental and indulgent she bit back and a somewhat barbed argument ensued.

when I reminded Martin of the ground rules of respect set out in the groups' first meeting he called me a "Gay Old Social worker" with a laugh

which shut me up, amid the tut tuts of some of the others

At coffee and biscuit time the only older guy in the group came up and asked me why I hadn't bitten back and I told him I just couldn't be arsed, which was true

but a small part of me, 

a tiny little gay twat of me,

would have liked to slapped him so hard in the back of the head that his eyes popped out

The River Dee in Chester this afternoon

We sat and ate ice cream like two middle aged gays 

Strikes

 

I think I’ve generally been sympathetic to the rail strike, even though it has affected me several times during sojourns to the capital and beyond. 

Today I am more than just pissed off with the RNT union leader Mick Lynch for adding one more strike day to the days already earmarked at the end of May and early June for strike action .Now he has effectively cancelled our Les Miserables trip planned on June 1st.

Now I can claim back the rail tickets for nothing and move the theatre tickets for a small fee, but we’ve lost our booking for the hotel, which was a difficult book anyway as cheaper hotel rooms in the capital early June were just not to be had.

I’ve booked them via credit card so may be able to get my money back …..but that’s not the point.

I get to go to London a lot, my sister much less so. 

And the one time she gets to have a treat 

It’s bloody cancelled

Bishop’s Flower

 

The alliums are flowering in the garden and look lovely despite not fully open this morning. I cut Centaurea Montana ( Mountain Cornflower) for the kitchen and filled the gaps with Ammi Majus ( Bishop’s Flower) and blue aquilegia picked from the lane borders.

Cut flowers, like owning  a cat, make a house a real home I always think

I’ve always thought so and I wonder where I learnt that from?

I’m physically back to normal today but will listen to my body and will sleep most of the afternoon before shift. The day before night shift ,is a literal day of rest for me. Pottering and flower cutting, that’s my therapy, and dozing alongside the coconut smelling Dorothy 

I’ve made chicken noodles with a low fat satay sauce for supper and an egg mango salad for lunch, and have watered the planters and written a considered message to a friend whose relationship has sadly faltered .

I’ve nothing big to share today.

No belly laughs or sad stories.

Nothing interesting to report in a world of sad news

Just a quiet day in a Welsh village

With the sound of blackbirds softening the sound of the noisy neighbour sawing wood in his workshop