Oh Beautiful Night, Night Of Love

Sometimes I haven’t much to say. 

Somedays I haven’t got anything to contribute in conversation 

Some days I just don’t speak!

I met the German for lunch and was entertained by his slender grasp on everyday English . 

I’m glad he’s not working with counselling clients, for his sake rather than theirs

I had to titter after he raised both eyebrows to my common colloquial saying of disbelief 

“ and my dick’s a kipper” 

“You are always talking!” he observed over coffee

He wasn’t being unkind , just direct 

I need to practice being quiet with him me thinks.

I’ve nothing major to share today.

When I am alone in the cottage, I’m silent

I’m not one to chatter away at the animals 

I don’t usually play music either

But today was an exception. 

Just before Christmas , the lisping Choir and Metropolitan Orchestra performed the famous barcarolle from The Tales of Hoffman. The original is a lilting aria between two sopranos and it mimics the lilting song of the Venetian Gondoliers and their version for their yearly Children’s concert ( complete with toy instruments ) was sublime and all rather joyous

Enjoy

Did you notice Sylvia reprimanding a chorister for not paying attention at the end 

Nudging Into 2026

 

I’ve worked the last two nights so I’m back home properly today.

I have no news apart from the fact I’ve just booked my ticket to see the lisping choir in May 

That’s the excitement of the day as The Archers has just disappointed with  George Grundy’s heavy handed survival and me and the Welsh have just walked the length of the dark, almost frozen lane in the moonlight.

Mary now is wearing her multicoloured cardigan, her matching Christmas Jumper, a gift from Trendy Carol now washed and pressed alongside Roger’s.

Neither dog wanted to walking into the cold 

A barn owl *, Huge and not totally silent loops over the field towards the ghost of the Church, unseen by the dogs who just want to return to the fireside. It swooped over my laburnum with the sound of silk curtains being quickly drawn and then around into the stable fields then back over us with its square head looking directly at us as we slowly headed  for home. 

It’s freezing

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

2026 John - Just Keep Swimming

 My niece has just left me a message. She described 2025 as a shit year and I found myself feeling a little guilty that my negativity has leeched downwards into everyone’s psychi.

That was naughty of me, despite the important fact that when someone actually asked if I was ok this year, I managed to honestly say at times that I wasn’t . 

For me this is an important breakthrough 

It acknowledged the fact that I was actually vulnerable and was in need of support.

The row with a senior colleague over possible redundancies was seminal too. When she told me to be more loyal and positive I gave her short shrift . Something normally I would have never done.

Having a voice is important, especially when you feel powerless

And 2025 offered me powerlessness in bucketloads.

But what was good in 2025?

There were lots to be thankful for 

• The Flower Show was the biggest and best we’ve ever had ( I can happily drop the microphone right there) 
• Trelawnyd Productions got off the ground with a cracking success and an introduction to new characters from the village as well as a resurrection by old ones. The energy and good humour generated was worth all of the hard work
• Madrid proved to be more than just a city break. It was a lifesaver. It reminded me and my friend Ruth that travel feeds you. It chased away the cobwebs and those dark thoughts and it brought me “home” to my lisping Choir , who have given me light on nights where light was much needed.
• Theatre and cinema has continued to be my go tos. Every Brilliant Thing and the new soho Theatre and Giselle at the Opera House, a highlight, but praise must be given to my bolt holes of The Storyhouse and Picturehouse dark corners of warmth and solace and recuperation 
• Oh and my qualification! I missed my graduation , but finally will book my gown hire tonight! Working in MIND has made me realise that I’m not an imposter when it comes to counselling. I have validation and worth as a new professional and that’s a lesson a long time coming.
• Oh and meeting that rather odd but charming German makes me realise that someone can find me attractive, even if a relationship may not be quite on the cards

And so dear readers, I wish you all well in 2026. I wish my family well, my friends well, and I wish myself well. 

I’m a list maker, 

So tonight, I’m booking my holidays, getting those faraway theatre ticked organised, renting my university gown and planning reunions and catch ups

As that lovely painted card on my living room wall reminds me .

Weaver’s Nature

Tonight I cooked a chicken casserole.  

Comfort food

Jewish penicillin

I ate massive bowls of it in front of the fire

Watching Australia on tv

The Baz Luhrmann epic from 2008

A sob fest 

Weaver appeared

Sitting on the stairs looking at me eating with hateful eyes. 

Her gentle sister was sat on the trendy blue couch with the Welsh 

Legs tucked under her chest, her eyes closed in happy company. 

I pulled a piece of chicken from my bowl and waved it at Weaver

She cocked her head with attitude.

Like the alien did to Sigourney Weaver 

“ Come on you little bitch “ I called 

“ I’ve got chicken “ 

Weaver chunnered gently, her teeth chattered

I ignored her 

Weaver circled the room knocking Christmas cards off the bookcase with attitude. 

It took her 20 minutes for her to finally appear at my feet

I ignored her

To be fair she had the final chutzpah to tap my knee five times with a sheathed paw 

So hoping for a  bonding moment I held up a large piece of chicken from my empty bowl.

She took it as if she was doing me a favour and walked to the centre of the room rug to eat every bit , her eyes never leaving the dogs who had woken up by the mini drama but who collectively were too fearful to start something. 

I picked up another piece of chicken and held it up hopefully…and

Weaver walked off to the kitchen 

And I could hear her peeing on the door mat before she smashed herself through the cat flap

She even did that with attitude 

 

Fuck off 2025

 With the exception of Madrid and Qualifying as a counsellor (strangely on the same day !) 2025 has been an awful year.

It’s not been my worst but it ranks highly as a real pisser and is one that I now know I’ve almost survived 

The threat of redundancy has made me view charities as businesses rather than just special places to work, and I never want to venture back to those sleepless nights where every following day may bring you the news that your job has gone alongside the way of paying for a roof over your head.

This threat brought the best and worst out in co workers

I’m so glad it’s over.

Losing the sight in my right eye is a wrench too

I’m clumsier than normal which is saying something

And that fall on the underground brought me up short too……but at least I no longer have to suffer the eye injections which were unpleasant to say the least

I feel I’m walking towards 2026 with a more sober head on 

Where self care is vital

A trip to Florence, and a return to Madrid are planned

A proper return to the choir, and a judicious increase in counselling clients are on the cards

I’m making soup this afternoon.

Chorizo and bean and the fire is lit and the cottage is warm 

Hey ho

He Sleeps - James Newton Howard

I fell asleep at teatime and dreamed a dream fired by a conversation with my elder sister today .

I “woke” and my grandmother was sitting quietly in the arm chair next to the fire. Finlay on her lap

The fire was reflected in her glasses and I could smell cold cream and fairy hand soap. 

She was smiling and had a white cardigan on 

I could even see the handkerchief she had suddenly pushed up one sleeve 

Finlay smiled too

My grandfather was asleep on the couch next to me in his shirt and tie, I could smell tobacco

Winnie snoring gently next to him  and across the room my aunt Dena waved gently and Albert swished a tail in his normal bad tempered way from the back of her chair.

Meg, and Willian and Dorothy lay in front of a fire I could feel from my dream and I could hear my sisters laughing from the kitchen though I couldn’t see them 

When I woke , I could only see Roger in the arm chair

And all I could smell was the spiced Christmas candle given to me from a neighbour 

And I suddenly felt I had missed something all rather special 

Wicked ( For Good)

 Note spoilers

I met a friend in Llandudno and we sat through Wicked For Good

I fell asleep in the middle which speaks volumes , but woke up soon after to see the best bits 

Aka Ariana Grande ‘s comic turn where she slaps Elphaba 

And of course their mostly unscripted and ad-libbed final “door” scene which got me blubbing.

I’ve seen it and overall was impressed with the film and the leads. 

But I think I would fall asleep in the middle of this one again …

Hey ho

The noise of Old Friends

 

I’ve know the Irish powerhouse Gráinne and Liverpudlian Hillary almost as long as I have Nu, though have seen them and their husbands more sporadically than I have my best friend. Today I remedied that by driving over to Anglesey to catch up with them all, including extended family and Nu’s husband Jim at a beautiful Georgian farmhouse just outside Beaumaris.

It was lovely.

Of course the decibel count was through the roof, but moments after sitting down at their dinner table set for 11, I was blissfully transported to back 1989 when young physiotherapists met young nurses at the Irish pubs of Sheffield . 

I sat and listened to the banter and shouting and singing and warmth like a thirsty man would look at a pint of ice cold lager.