Siegfried, Patricia Routledge, and thoughts about a lost dog and the Sound Of Music

 My first crush in literature was the vet Siegfried Farnon, the rather strict older brother of Tristan and boss of James Herriot. To me he wasn’t the bad tempered, somewhat old character played by Robert Hardy in the tv series but a late thirtyish batchelor with the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

Even then I had an empathy for him.

In the recent tv series , Siegfried is played quite wonderfully by Samuel West and boy have I been transported back to my teenage crush years , I can just see Samuel with a hole in his jumper.

The next video is a heartbreaker

A young dog went missing for a week and her distraught owners finally located her with a collection of wonderful strangers who sent drones up to find the frightened animal. 

The reunion is wonderfully uplifting 

Two days ago I watched the Sound Of Music for the first time as an adult. Most of the story I had forgotten, ( I was 6 or 7 when my mother took me and my sister Janet ) but I do remember that the film was overlong and I was bored.

As a 63 year old, who was overstimulated by a child by the LP  continually played by sister Ann, I had an open mind , but I really loved it . 

Julie Andrews was a revelation, she really dominated every scene she was in and only once was she out shadowed and that was when Mother Superior Peggy Wood belted out Climb Every Mountain from the shadows of her office. 

The children were delightful, Eleanor Parker proved to be a suitable sort of baddie, and the nuns knowing smiles made the movie for me .

It was gayer than any gay I have ever known 

Wonderful 

And lastly my other hero Patricia Routledge has died in her 90s . I first loved her as Victoria Wood’s Kitty in the 1980s but she has always been a firm favourite with middle England for her real life portrayal of a British spinster. Her performance of a sad, inconsequential character in Alan Bennett’s A Woman Of No Importance , broke your heart in its pathos and proved that the old gal was not only a talented comedian but an actress of worth

And finally storm Amy is almost over, we have been left with blustery winds still but the sunshine is back this morning and Bun and Weaver have gone back outside for the first time in two days

Dead Of Winter

 I was going to a leaving do this afternoon, but the trains to Llandudno had been cancelled, and I couldn’t face the replacement bus service 

So I went to Chester to see Dead Of Winter

Emma Thompson is an actress that convey pure emotion in a look of a single gesture. I am remembering her famous silent weeping scene in Love Actually or that single shriek of hope at the end of Sense and sensibility. 

In the thriller  Dead Of Winter she plays the recently widowed Barb. A gentle country woman who ran a bait and tackle business in rural Minnesota. The marriage ( which we see in brief flashbacks) is a happy one and clearly grieving, we watch with interest this sixty something heading out into a snowstorm to do some ice fishing. Here the drama takes a dark turn as Barb comes across an isolated cabin in which a teenage girl is being kept hostage, and without hesitation we see Barb morph into an unlikely hero, using her knowledge of country ways and the lake in winter in order to save the girl from a truly evil abductor couple ( Marc Menchaca and Judy Greer)

There is limited dialogue and plenty of action , as the likeable, polite and humble Barb, take on the bad guys. She’s not an infallible hero, but she is brave and resourceful and even as the action and the tension rises to a crescendo we always see the grief in Thompson’s face as she remembers happier times, and so we understand the reasons why she returned to the fishing lake at such an inhospitable time. It’s a great performance all told, with Thompson on great form, and her one and only gentle speech of hope to the teenage girl is a tour de force in the actress’ career 

Il Trovatore Coro de gitanos Verdi Grupo Talía

The lisping choir and the Metropolitan Orchestra does Verdi 

Quite beautifully

Storm Amy lashed the North Wales Coast and in the hospice today a handful of staff watched with the patients as the centre’s garden furniture took sail in wind and the wooden pergola shook dangerously close to destruction. 

I got home just before 9 pm with the Welsh snuggled up on the kitchen reading chair and Bun and Weaver sat quietly on the kitchen tops. All together safe from the storm outside 

And all welcoming me from a very long day overtime 

The Lost Bus

 

Now people that know me, will understand that I love a good disaster movie. Most of my teenage years were dominated by burning skyscrapers, earthquakes and 747’s in trouble. 

Hell, when I started my film degree, I even wrote an assignment on the role of women in 1970 disaster movies ( I got an A btw) 

So I was excited to see Paul Greengrass’ new disaster flick The Lost Bus today. 

Based on the true story of the 2018 Paradise Wild Fire, we follow an overwhelmed fire department as they battle a once in a lifetime forrest fire in rural California . Caught up in the drama is a somewhat dejected and troubled school bus driver Kevin McKay ( Michael McConaughey) and a prim teacher Mary Ludwig ( America Ferrera) who are suddenly responsible for the safety of 22 small children 

Their journey to safety is an epic and exciting ride, with all of Greengrass’ directorial flourishes on show but as small children in peril on a typically American yellow school bus, is such a stereotype in action ,movies ( Godzilla, Superman, Fabulous Four, Independence Day  etc etc etc) much of the drama is cushioned by the knowledge that all will be well 

Much more chilling, was an early scene where a small convoy of survivors supervised by a lone fireman are trapped by the fire. They only just escape , by throwing themselves into a small lake as the roaring fire flows over them, and the sequence is stunningly shot and terrifyingly acted. 

McConaughey ( not an actor I like) is very impressive here and I also liked Ashlee Atkinson’s performance as his tough talking and acting boss Ruby. 

A good watch

The Child Inside

 I’m such a child sometimes

I don’t apologise for it 

Yesterday I bought a £3.00 plastic light up ghost from Sainsbury’s 

Useless

But cute

Eyes and a beach conversation

 Bloody awful injection in my eye yesterday and repeat appointment this afternoon.

I’m eye phobic and only coping because a support worker at the eye hospital was so sweet….

Go to your happy place ( she told me )

“ I can’t “ I told her

“ well go to mine” …she said

“where’s that?” I asked clutching at straws

“Greggs * “ she said with a smile ….

I loved her

    *https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greggs

I had a text from a dear friend this morning. It was the dreaded I have Cancer message. I didn’t ring back immediately, these type on conversations need preparation and calm. So I took the Welsh to McDonalds and bought them a cheesy flatbread and myself a large coffee and a porridge. 

I walked the dogs on the beach and we returned to Bluebell where I rang my friend. 

I listened and heard and I told my friend that I loved them as the Welsh curled up into balls to sleep and the sea breeze slipped through the open windows.

Fire – Mädchenchor Hamburg

This is an extraordinary piece of singing. Not the lisping choir but a German one.

I’m in the waiting room at the eye hospital ( first visit of two)

Another day another procedure.  

( Ive had to turn the volume down for this one) 

And the vagaries of normal life ebb and flow

As they have a habit of doing

When I got home yesterday a package awaited me on the kitchen wall

A card and a gift of jam from Lywena ( Widow to Ralph the Gentleman Farmer)

Who lives down the lane and across the Felin Valley

It’s for my counselling certificate, I start seeing clients proper next week! 

Old Friends

 Thirty six years have flown by, and between us we’ve had four husbands, seven children, lots of laughs and quite a few too many tears. In our twenties, we bonded as young staff nurses ( and occupational therapist) and supported each other through the adventures of young adulthood. Tracey still looks like Sophia Loren and wears a smile that can almost make you cry with its warmth. Ally remains the quirky one, with a sharp brain and wit to match and I felt at home , as I always did, listening to them banter and laugh about the last thirty years of news. 

For once, a long time ago, I was that quiet shy man. The one who had never been to the Opera. The one that hadn’t had a relationship that was fraught and adult and interesting. I soaked up their energy like a sponge and I grew as a person and as a professional in 1980s York that was filled with music, and drink, and socialising and laughter, and of friendships that mattered.

We missed Betty’s, a suicide on the train line had made me unfortunately late, ( how apt it was a probably a mental health problem which affected our reunion) but this morning I took myself off to Betty’s alone and sat in the window with my tea and fat rascal before getting the train home