Cinema, Ballet and Friends

Despite feeling like shit, it's all worked out for the best really. Arrived in London at midday yesterday and walked down from Euston, via the British Museum, and Shaftsbury Avenue to soho where I walked directly to the Curzon arthouse cinema to be in time for a 1pm showing of Nocturnal Animals
I was so glad that I did for the film is one of the best I have seen this year, and two hours out of the drizzle in the warm cucoon of a dark cinema was just what I needed.

Right, you have got to keep up with me here.
Susan Morrow (Amy Adams) is a successful yet somewhat haunted gallery owner. Slowly realising that her second marriage is on the rocks, she finds herself obsessing about her first marriage which she ended cruelly some two decades earlier. The catalyst for this is the arrival of a gift in the shape of her ex husbands first novel ( in proof form). The book is a violent and disturbing story of murder and revenge, which captures Susan's imagination, and it's veiled subtext of how her ex husband  Edward ( Jake Gyllenhaal) dealt with his feelings of grief and loss after their split, causes her to question her own motivations within their brief relationship.

It sounds good on this simplistic level, does it not?  but when you add in the complication of seeing the read novel unfold on film, with Gyllenhaal playing the traumatised Tony Hastings who lost his wife and daughter to an arbitrary act of violence during a road trip through the Texan desert, fiction blends almost seamlessly with fact as Susan realises just how much she has traumatized her first husband.
Director Tom Ford has crafted a sylish, almost hypnotic film here.
The violent desert scenes bookend the aseptic and slightly detached nature of Susan's life perfectly as two other characters come into play, to almost steal the show. The first is a tour de force cameo by Laura Linney who in flashback plays Susan's dominant and coldly pragmatic mother in one wonderfully icy scene and the second is an underplayed almost reptilian turn by Michael Shannon as a dying Sheriff, assigned to solve the murder of Hastings' family and who wants to do the right thing even though the law isnt quite on his side.
How does the story end? Well  you will have to see the movie to find out. Suffice to say, the whole piece will leave you thinking well past the time that the final credits roll.
It's a great movie
9.5/10

.,

After all that I met Nu after work and we had a good natter until we went to Sadler's Wells to see only the second performance of Mathew Bourne's production of The Red Shoes.
I knew I wasnt the most sparkling of company but I tried my best! 

Bourne's work is always a real treat, and The Red Shoes didn't disappoint even though the production was not as " magical" as some of his other ballets,the scene where the evil shoes take control of Victoria  (Ashley Shaw) has to be seen to be believed and is well worth the price of any ticket!

I'm exhausted but happy that I touched base with Nu....it's 9am and I'm aleady on my way home dosed up with antibiotics and paracetamol 

London Bound

I've been feeling like shit all week.
Picked up something nasty during last week's shift at the hospital and have paid for it ever since.
Yesterday I sorted through 500 logs. I shifted the lot, made a dry wood pile and cleared the drive so by teatime I had a raging temperature and a pulled muscle in my diaphragm after coughing and farting  too hard at the same time.
I went to bed around 8pm and was only woke by the Prof hours later after he rather reacted rather to an unexpected piss stain!in his office on his return back from Norway.
This morning I only feel marginally better, ( temp down) but my headache, cough, stress muscle pain,  and very slight disorientation remains with me which is a bummer as I am now on the 10.04 for London.
This evening I am meeting up with Nu, for eats, chat, catch up and ballet at Saddlers Wells. I shall be home midday tomorrow!
I left The Prof vague instructions for the Ukrainian Village. Yesterday's slightly underplayed yet worrying instructions from the Government to house domestic poultry indoors for a month is just not practical in our case, so an alternative stop gap has to be sought.
I hope to transfer my girls to my friend Eirlys' farm where they can join her hens in a vast airy barn.
I shall sort this out on my return.
The Prof looked worried when I informed him of the government instructions
" I hope you haven't got bird flu" he said as I coughed and spluttered my way onto the train.

I know. I look like shite

Ten Years On

Sue

After seven years Sue at " Our New Life In The Country" has written her last blog post. She says she wants her privacy back, and that is understandable given the fact she has a huge following who enjoy reading of her life in the Welsh hills, some twenty miles west of Trelawnyd.

She will be missed.

I have been writing Going Gently for a decade now. Almost every day, over a coffee, I have written down this diary of events ( or non events) the way I see them , and for a decade, with perhaps an occasional exception. I have enjoyed the ritual. 

That's why I do it. 

There is also another valid reason why I blog and that is vanity. 

Going Gently , to me , is like a painting in a museum or a book on a shelf or indeed a film locked away in a film can, for it's now " here" for good! An indelible tribute to colourful characters, loved animals who spend all-too-short lives rubbing along with you and to a small life with all of it's mundane highs and lows .

Sue, left her mark in the blogosphere and has touched others in the process. So have I .

You have to be a real sociopath not to enjoy the fact that others enjoy you. 

Vanity, validation whatever it is....

Write a blog, and for the length of time you write.....you are immortalised ...

Well as long as the World Wide Web survives in the ether

Sully

The Prof says it's bright and clear and sunny in Norway.
It's rather dull and drab here.
I took myself off to the cinema this afternoon to see Clint Eastwood's latest movie SULLY .
Sully is the nickname of Chesley Sullenberger, the pilot who landed his airliner on a freezing Hudson River after it was struck by a flock of birds soon after leaving LaGuardia airport  in 2009 and the film tells the story of the forced landing ( albeit in flashback) and the subsequent National Transportation Safety Board's investigation who sought to prove that Sullenberger could have landed his aircraft safely at the airport.
I suspect Eastwood is very much like Sullenberger, as the film, like the pilot, is a calm, unpretentious and unshowy piece that reeks of professional storytelling and unsentimentally.
Played with a quiet dignity by Tom Hanks, Sullenberger is portrayed as a calm, systematic thinker and obvious hero of the piece. However we do not find much else about him during this 96 minute film.His personality or his personal life are somewhat played down -though we are able to witness  brief snippets of phone conversations he has with his dutiful wife ( an underused Laura Linney) but I suppose that is a minor complaint as the interactions of Sullenberger with his co pilot Jeff Silkes ( Aaron Eckhart) during the emergency literally blows your mind by it's calm control.
Strong silent type heros.........Mr Eastwood would approve of and would, in his day, would loved to have played
7.5/10

Bring It On

We are spending Christmas with the Prof's family down in Kent, so I wanted us to have tasteful  Christmas jumpers for the event.

I did want this Walking Dead jumper but it proved to be too expensive, so I bought this monstrosity at Sainsbury's today
Waddu think?

Is it me or does the bear have a noticeable and actual double chin! 

Winnie And The Professor

Yesterday I was witness to a rare little Christmas scene.
No it wasn't local villager , Dave Smith driving around Trelawnyd dressed as santa as he did on Saturday for the Christmas Fayre.

It was a little moment between Professor and Elderly bulldog......
We were all sat in the living room watching David Attenborough, when I noticed Winnie lift herself heavily from the hearth rug. She ambled over to me and offered her head up to be kissed.
It's a regular demand in a demanding household.
She then made her way to the couch to say a hello to the Prof, and instead of his usual perfunctory one pat of acknowledgement, he moved his legs and surprisingly offered her a place on the couch next to him.
Her eyes widened in shock!
Even though that she had always wanted this moment  this offer had never ever happened in her three years at Bwthyn y Llan and she hesitated, unsure of exactly what to do. She looked at me, then back at the Prof who have her a Roger Moore eyebrow look, and waited to be asked again.
Surprisingly he didn't only ask her again, he stood up and gestured for her to jump up onto the couch, then, when she hesitated again, he half lifted her up onto the cushions.
I had to giggle at her expression when the Prof propped his legs up next to her and covered them both with his warm woollen throw
Within seconds, a contented look upon her face, she rested her big fat head onto the Prof's knees and  promptly fell asleep as we watched tv in front of the fire.
I sat quietly in the armchair as surprised as Winnie had been
I had never seen The Prof act so affectionately towards her !!

Cariad Bach

The nurse in charge of intensive care told me that we had had  a lady from the village admitted.
It was a villager I know fairly well.
Before we were allocated to our respective patients, I popped over to her bed space to check on how she was doing.
Intensive care disguises patients well.
It covers patients with tubes and lines and drains and cables.
It masks faces with endotracheal tubes and oxygen masks and through necessity removes personalised clothing for gowns and clean sheets.
From the centre of such a collection came a weak sing song voice
" Hello Cariad Bach " it trilled
" Cariad Bach " is a rather old fashioned term in Welsh.
It literally means " little sweetheart" or " little loved one" 

The nurse in charge, reads Going Gently , I think, for when I got back in line for the allocation , she asked me, in a somewhat theatrical stage whisper " is she one of your old ladies? " 



  

Christmas Fayre

The Cameron family, who worked incredibly hard preparing the Fayre made a real success of the afternoon. I with seven stalwarts from the Flower Show committee manned the refreshment table and kitchen, (which was a job in itself!) aided by Eirlys, and Mrs Trellis

Karen  who knitted a hat for me a few years ago with my own sheeps wool was one of many stall holders!

 Mrs Trellis ( in the bobble hat ) selling hotdogs!

Santa ( Dave Smith from Bryon Street) turned up on his moter bike! 

A slightly obscured view of the village school children singing on the stage

( I don't think I ever want to hear " little Donkey" ever again

Off to bed now, on night shift later

Fayre

I'm just about to go to the hall to help out with Sandra Cameron's Christmas Fayre.
I'll post some photos of it later before going to work.
The Prof has harrumphed a bit and has been sent shopping
Apparently the PA system has a pink microphone
Sandra asked if I minded! 

Help?

Every year our small collection of Christmas decorations seem to grow just a little more.
Some, items have been with us an absolute age.
These vintage  2 inch crackers have been knocking around for years and years.
I was told that they came from America in the 1940s
Does anyone out there know if that's true
I'd be interested to know

Shampoo and Shop

The Chester ' star' outside the cathedral 

Yesterday, I had the onerous job of shampooing the cottage carpets. The machine that " does the job" is the size of a small fridge. It sucks the soot from the shag pile with all of  the gusto of an elephant with an iced bun up it's trunk ...so satisfying to see litre upon litre of muddy water being tipped down the drain. 

Late afternoon I met the Prof in Chester where we did some Christmas shopping and had a welcomed meal out like grown ups. I am working this weekend and Monday he flys out to Norway. 

(Norway in December! You couldn't be more Christmassy.!) so we have had to grab some shopping time. It was nice to be able to wear my good shoes for a change! 

I will put the Christmas's decorations up  this afternoon...

It' s the village Christmas Fayre tomorrow and I am still a little short of bodies to man the kitchen with me. Pat, the animal helper is away so I shall called round to see Mrs Trellis and Eirlys the chicken farmer later. I'm sure both can be relied upon! 

I'll leave you with this standout samba from Strictly, You honestly couldn't tell that Danny Mac is an amateur ! Amazing......watch this, it will give you a smile and will set you up for nice weekend! 

A Few Thoughts.......

The public " outing"  of  the extent of the sexual abuse of boys by their football coaches in the 1970s and 80s feels like that the genie has been finally let out of the lamp. In these freer, more enlightened times the victims, now in their forties and fifties , are now being believed and listened to as sexual abuse now leaves the confines of the church and stereotypical figures like the creepy scoutmaster and has entered an area, everyone once thought wholesome.
The misguided and dated ideas tweeted by the darts player Eric Bristow, who confused child sexual abuse with homosexuality has been rightly ridiculed and I thank god we are now living in an age that personal sexuality is more or less celebrated and certainly accepted at the same time that reports of sexual abuse are now believed, listened to and not ignored or given a blind eye to, as it was so often in those unenlightened days when nothing was ever talked about. 

Thank goodness I never experienced any institutional abuse growing up. I do remember a teacher that  occasionally turned up during showers, and I remember that the boys talked about the fact amongst themselves. Nowadays I think children are more savvy and supported and such incidences would be shared more readily with parents, safe teachers and friends.
Enlightenment breeds honestly and trust.........it stops predators from hiding in the shadows

Wiki English Football Abuse scandal

What Have You Done Today?

• Got up crack of dawn, drove Prof to station in my pyjamas, 
• Fed stock,cat and dogs ( walked them four times too) 
• Took photo of icy field ( above)
• Cleaned cottage, made bed, cleaned toilet with toilet duck
• Wrote blog
• Took William to groomers
• Dropped cleaning into dry cleaners
• Banked stuff for the Prof
• Shopped
• Bought logs
• Ate pineapple for lunch
• Collected eggs, applied antibiotic spray to goose foot
• Collected William
• Took William to vets
• Collected carpet cleaner
• Fed birds, locked birds up
• Lit fire, made chicken dinner
• Burnt sprouts
• Swore a lot cos best saucepan ruined 
• Collected Prof 
• Listened to academic news of the day
• Served supper
• Washed dishes
• Fed dogs
• Helped Prof squeezing William's anal glands
• Watched celebrity get me out of here
• Cried at " letters from home" 
• Answered blog comments
• Wrote blog.....bed

" Kill, Kill, Kill Them All"

I am irrationally angry first thing in the morning.

The earlier I get up, 

the worse it is.

The Prof knows he exacerbates it all by tutting at my driving abilities, 

or like he did this morning , giving me unwanted advice about how the clear the windscreen of ice

I have to bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself from

clubbing him to death with my crocs

He is like Julie Andrews on waking.

That is another thing that pisses me off.

I dropped him off at a dark railway station at some ungodly hour this morning 

And before. He got out of the car he showered my left cheek with kisses as I sat there looking like Walter Matthau 

I wish I could be different 

But I can't 

I'm a twat before 7am! 

Late Camilla Update

 Apologies Janice, I forgot to pass on the Camilla is fine after her bin lorry collision , I took this photo of her, Jo and Carol in a frozen Ukrainian village and field this morning . - 6 degrees tonight! Thank goodness we have a new heating system...
Even though the Professor who has a PhD .....cannot figure out yet!

A very cold Irene and Sylvia waiting for their feed this morning

Soundtracks Of Your Life

Certain pieces of music provide a backdrop to your life in that particular moment of time.
Meat Loaf 's BAT OUT OF HELL takes me back to 1982' times of youthful exuberance. Cher's I BELIEVE 1990s Sheffield  and Audrey Hepburn's MOON RIVER will always make me think of courting The Prof, in a time he had hair and I had a waist!
Julia Fordham's HAPPY EVER AFTER conjures up happy days with my best friend Nu and Mario Lanza's DRINKING SONG transports me to a mad cap car journey home with my sisters.

Music, like certain smells, flash memories through your mind.

This morning I heard this song FROM 2007 on the radio. Snow Patrol's CHASING CARS saturated the airways when I drove to and fro from home to the vets and the animal hospital in Cheshire. It was a time of great distress as my first dog Finlay was undergoing various tests for a sudden neurological deterioration and every car journey including the one that necessitated me returning his body home for burial was punctuated by this melancholy song played quietly on the radio.
The song can still, after nine years, reduce me to tears.

What is the first soundtrack of your life that leaps to your mind.
Why do you remember it?
I'd be interested to know.

The Walking Dead - Swear

I like Alanna Masterson's character on The Walking Dead. As the slightly lumpy, big hipped, wisecracking and at times gauche lesbian Tara, Masterson brings some welcome humour to a story so often filled with sadness and horror. 
In this her stand alone episode, Tara finds yet another community ( this time a totally female encampment called Oceanside.) The newbees are mistrusting on any stranger as they had all of their men over ten years old culled by Negan's saviors and the whole episode was really a reflective piece of the bad things , good people do, in the name of survival .
Oceanside kills strangers no matter now innocent they may be . The Alexandrians killed Negan's satellite soldier group in their beds and so no one comes out truly clean in this brave new world.
Tara, in a rather plodding episode had a chance to explore this concept.
Oh and with her big hips swaying like a grand Southern Mama she killed 50 sand covered walkers in the most hammy and bumbling kind of way, it made me like her even more .

The Führer's Penis

The hardest thing to do on intensive care is to care for a patient who is confused and desperately ill. 

They often seesaw precariously on the very edge of sudden and often disastrous  deterioration because they do not understand the need to comply with medical and nursing treatments. 

I looked after such a patient yesterday. 

I was somewhat fraught after 13 hours of it. 

Driving home , I thought of all of those unpaid carers in this country who deal day in day out with their confused and disorientated loved ones at home. Work which often has limited or no respite, and which may carry on for years and years and years. 

Thirteen hours of it, doesn't sound at all bad eh?

When I was a student nurse in psychiatry, I took an elderly lady called Jean out Christmas Shopping in Chester. 

She had schizophrenia and early onset dementia and although physically fit, she remained muddled and disorientated for most of the time.

We ended up in Browns of Chester which was the flagship department store in the city at the time and as we walked through the make up department we were approached by one of those plastic looking salesgirls who was offering " squirts" of perfume for ladies to trial.

" Would madam like to try?" The plastic woman said with a plastic smile

And Jean duly held out her wrist for a tester.

I watched her reaction carefully.

Jean took a sniff of the scent and nodded that she liked it, so.., sensing a sale the plastic woman moved in for the kill.

Jean then smiled a sweet smile and beckoned the woman forward and whispered the following statement in her ear

" I knew Hitler you know, he had a massively HUGE COCK,! "

I'll leave you with a big up of the Village Christmas Fayre which takes place in the Memorial Hall on Saturday.....hope everyone can make it

Hey Ho again

Shite day at work.
Came home to a stressed Prof who couldnt quite sort the smoking fire out!
Walked dogs
Ate tea,
Watched the sweet Lisa Snowdon getting kicked out of the get me out of here

That almost rhymed 

Royal Arse

After sorting out the valve system on the radiators I was just getting all testosterone and full of myself when the council  bin men lorry pulled up outside the cottage and one of the hairy arsed bin men knocked loudly on the front door .
I was half expecting them to be in a pissy mood after all I had left half a ton of plumber's packaging and bin bags out for collection but the binman wasn't bothered about the rubbish, he was more upset than anything
" One of your birds has smashed into our van" he told me
Apparently they had just turned the corner at the bottom of the lane when " a soddin massive black bird" had appeared from nowhere and had bounced on the roof of their refuse lorry, just above the windscreen.
The bird then " shat" down the windscreen ( probably in shock) then bounced into the hedge.
" It's still alive" the binman told me " it was hissing at us"
" It's probably Camilla Parker Bowles "I told him " She's a crap flyer"
The binman looked confused.

I could have done without another little drama. I was still getting used to the heating system more complicated than the average ITU ventilator and had already fixed a leaking radiator single handed a few minutes before, so with slightly heavy and irritated heart I followed the binman down the lane to where his three colleagues were peering into the hedge.
" It's in there" one man chirped up pointing to a goose sized hole in the hedge
I looked in and sure enough Camilla looked back at me with her big black solemn eyes.
As I reached in and picked her up, the binman who had knocked on the door turned to his friends and said" her name is Camilla Parker Bowles !" They all nodded with interest in a chorus of " ooos and arrhhhs"

Apart from a massive crap stain on her back end , Camilla looked shocked but unhurt. So I thanked the binmen and apologied for any damage caused.
" It will have to be logged " , the senior binman said " she's dented the roof"  but they were soon on their way and Camilla was soon sat in a dark calm goose house under observation"

I wonder what the binmen would log in their incident file?
"Camilla Parker Bowles crash landed on our bin lorry today and she shat all over the windscreen "
Dirty girl.......