My Favourite

 I adore Olivia Coleman .
Just listening to her giving an interview fills me with pleasure, as her self effacing and always breathless humour is exactly what I find attractive in another human being.
I've treated myself to a midday showing of The Favourite today
So later, I shall share the review
I suspect Mz Coleman will receive a few plaudits .

The Favourite has a " look" all of it's own.
Set against the fashions of an early 18th Century Royal court, director Yorgos Lanthimos has created a sumptuous, predominantly black and white hued version of the power struggles of three very different women.
Lady Marlborough ( Rachel Weisz ) the straight talking power behind the frail and sickly Queen Anne ( Olivia Coleman) is effectively running the Royal Court and indeed the country.
When her cousin Abigail ( Emma Stone) a lady fallen on difficult times arrives asking for a job the dynamic between Queen and her confidant and lover is challenged which leads to a whole series of manipulations and intrigues behind the Royal Closed doors.

Hard stare Stone

This is a powerful and clever film which balances the characters of all three protagonists equally.
Each woman is shown in balance.. sometimes we see each acting as a monster, sometimes with more  sympathy and not one quite outshines the other in the intensity of their performances.
Weisz and Stone dance around each other with wonderfully wicked turns and Coleman truly shines as the complex and childish Monarch...especially in one pivotal scene where we are only privy to a facial close up, which literally breaks your heart, as she shares the heartbreak of a Queen ravaged by bereavement and bad health.

Weisz in full swish

Common Sense

Winter 1985 York

Psychotherapy and counselling only works if the recipient has insight into their condition or problem
So many " professionals" allow their time to be an emotional romp rather than an effort to explore the roots of the problem  and yesterday I was reminded of a moment when I witnessed a real eureka moment during a therapeutical interaction.
The moment was a pivotal one.
The patient had slashed at her arms and neck with broken crockery after a particularly difficult weekend leave at home and was being seen by the psychologist moments after allowing me to dress her wounds. She was crying and forlorn, but managed to share that her husband had emotionally battered her during a family celebration designed to celebrate her inpatient improvement and removal from a mental health section.
Much of her therapy was concerned with abuse this patient had received at the hands of a critical and emotionally weak, jealous father. 
Confused and distraught the patient kept referring to her husband's behaviour  by repeating the words " Why.... why why?  " as she ripped at her bandages and as I stood to intervene the psychologist, a thin , vital little Yorkshireman waved me away with a grim smile
He knelt at the patient's feet, took her hands and caught her gaze
"His teeth fit your wounds" he said slowly " His teeth fit your wounds!" 
" Do you understand?"  and eventually through her tears the patient nodded
The link between her choice of husband with the behaviour of the  ghost of her father clarified by a simple phrase.
Eureka 


Chatty


Congratulations to teenage boffin Cameron who had just passed his driving test.
I need to book him to cottage sit when I go up to Sheffield next month, I hope he can make it as Mrs Trellis is my next bet and the dogs will run circles around her. 
She's no disciplinarian
Sheffield will be a hug to my heart.....for as well as the hospital reunion Im arranging to meet old friends Mike, Bev, Jane, John, Kath and Vince.....2018 I let things lapse with them
Trendy Carol, ( nice hair new jacket) dropped me a late Christmas gift of miniature gins yesterday. Her Terrier was on the same medication as William so it was a thank you for me passing it all over to her. 
"Gorgeous Dave "from Samaritans has just called wanting a catch up and I've arranged to meet up with him on Saturday for a drink which will be nice...I told him I needed to pull myself out of my Yuletide funk and he agreed......I m going to see if village elder Islwyn could give me a lift so I can have a small Sherry! I'm sure he will....
It's my turn to book some theatre for the affable despot, Jason and I to go to and choir starts next week which will be fun....our choirmaster wants to take us all to a big joint sing in London this year! 
How fantastic is that?
My friend Greta has promised me a night out of gossip too...after my night shift ...she's on!
Grabs bra straps and pulls!

It's cold tonight and I'm off to bed soon in some thermal socks my sister gave me for Christmas.....bloody lovely they are too
Winnie has watched Rick Stein prepare several meals in India tonight, then sat through a re run of Bake off and is now enjoying a documentary on the Mississippi ...I may leave the tv on for her overnight
Hey ho

Creating A Monster



With George now assuming top dog status by spending every sleeping moment in the much sought after blue arm chair, Winnie has been now been relegated to the small edwardian arm chair in the corner of the living room.  Already fed up with this " demotion" she now has made it her misson to sneak onto the couch with me and Mary where she has suddenly found herself mesmerised with the devil himself....the television  For hours in an evening ( and like most if the UK population) she will now watch any old shite thats going but seems to  prefer action tv and movies to anything more cerebral or thoughtful  The other evening she seems to be particularly engrossed in Disneys Jungle Book but did sit through the Victoria Cohen Mitchel Quiz Show Only Connect without blinking.
   

Spinal Days

Im not a lover of reunions You know reunions from school...the class of 74 and all that.  It all leaves me somewhat cold. In Febuary ive been invited to a reunion of staff from the Princess Royal Spinal Injury unit in Sheffield  It will. I  know be an emotional evening and is one I am looking forward to.  Some places in your history hold a special place in your heart, and that rehabilitation unit filled with like minded multi disciplined staff was the place that taught me how to be not only an effective holistic carer but what I hope was a popular and effective manager of people.  The special nature of spinal nursing is centred around the fact you have the patients for so long. On the acute ward  ( the one I ran) the patients were admitted anything from three to six months, sometimes longer in the those with respirstory complications,after which they would be transferred to a sister ward in order to complete their rehabilitation .  It was not uncommon to have a professional relationship with patients and their families  for a year or so, so it wasnt uncommon for patients to become if not true friends, but rather special people in your life. I have not worked there since 2005 and Im still in touch with staff and former patients. 
 In Febuary Ive arranged to meet up with Kim before we go. A former psychologist on the unit who now lives down south. Kim, I know shares my affection for the place " This is a place of much humour, strength and warmth " she once said with an emphasis on the humour. 
 The following was the paraphrased
conclusion of a thank you letter I recieved from a visiting district nurse back in 1997
" Despite the gravity of the disabilities dished out  to ordinary people often by sudden arbitary accidents this centre has such a positive and cohesive approach in maximising independence and personal responsibility.  I have been humbled by it. God bless you for sharing that with me "
 We all have a place that shapes and defines us.  The Spinal Unit in Sheffield did that for me.      

New Year Clean Bitch

Doing extra night shifts tonight and tomorrow night
Vet's bills need paying



A Happier New Year


I had today's blog all written in my head this morning.
It was a meandering, reflective piece about my 2018 and what I could have done better in a marriage that I didn't realise was on it's uppers.
But what's the point?
What ifs help no one!
What's done is done..
Yet..many worries have not yet been resolved in the divorce, and my future remains uncertain
Uncertainty can be exhausting

This morning George got reviewed at the vets and was started on some steroids . We stopped at the supermarket at Denbigh before home and I treated him to a cooked chicken breast.
The vet receptionist gave me one of those " You AGAIN?"  expressions when we arrived. I gave her the buiscuit tin Mrs Trellis had given me a few days ago. It was fat club weigh in half an hour later and I just knew I have put on several pounds over Christmas.

Yes, this morning is a snapshot of an ordinary morning of an ordinary day.
Boring, mundane and probably like one that most of us experience after Christmas....only today is New Year's Eve......and I rather dislike New Year's Eve as there is a pressure for it to be albeit in part....interesting
Since the late 1980s when a dear friend died just before the celebrations started, I always have disliked the day.

And so, only after I've painted a picture of a morning of feeling slightly sorry for myself,  it was then when I rembered that a family friend had just lost her husband a few days ago. I had already written her a sympathy card which I'd put in Bluebell's glove box so with George still smacking his lips free of Chicken fat, I stopped at the friend's house to deliver it.

The new widow was filling her bird feeders in the garden when I arrived and her entire posture sagged in sadness when I approached.
All I could do was hug her long and hard as she cried.
And cried she did, as my croc wearing feet grew damp and cold on the wet grass.

There is nothing like witnessing real raw grief to get you to realise that your own problems can be coped with and even when you still think your life couldn't be more miserable and painful, my grief over a broken marriage cannot quite be compared with the finite end only a death brings in a long term relationship .

When We got home George retired to his armchair with Winnie as his organic hot water bottle whilst I made butter squash soup. I've been invited to a village drinks party tonight which is nice as I now could go as my pre planned Samaritans shift 00.00 to 02.00 am shift has had to be cancelled, but I think I shall stay at home alone. Robert Cameron , who invited me , told me with some feeling that I was "spending too much time alone .....which is not good ...you need to be with people who love you"  
But as right as he may be , tonight I feel is not the night to start the change in things.

" Tomorrow, I 'll start changing things a bit" 
Tomorrow is when I can start training for the marathon

"......... after all tomorrow is another day" 

Hey ho my dearhearts
Let us all have a better 2019 eh? 
Xxxx



Small Pools Of Light


I'm tired
It's a kind of wasted day after a night shift and I'm cuddled up with George on the couch.
He's got a bout of enteritis and is lying with a hot water bottle on his tummy.
We've not had a poo for a couple of hours though which is good
The living room is bathed in small pools of light, which makes a change from the pools of poo which decorated it in the last 24 hours
My Art Deco bear and hippo glimmer alongside various scented candles, a glowing fur cone and the deep red pulse of the lot burner
And the living room really feels like home

Pantomime ( aka Panto)


I went to the panto last night.
Now Panto in Rhyl wouldn't be my first choice given my sensitive snobby ways but all turned out pretty well despite a half filled auditorium .
Now I am aware that many of my followers wouldn't really have a " scooby doo" of what constitutes an average British panto....and so here are a few pointers

Think of a child's fairy story performed on stage with a backdrop of gaudy, cartoon sets and lavish over the top costumes.
Add to the mix, a few non related pop songs sung by with gusto by the twenty something principle boy or girl, a backing dance troupe of five or six , slightly uncoordinated teenage dancers in their first show and hordes of tiny tots from the local dance school who are there to make up the numbers.
Sweetening the menu can be a minor soap opera celebrity almost on their uppers who usually plays the villain , a couple of middle aged male comics, one usually dressed as a dame with massive tits and a potty mouth who can engage the predominately kiddie audience with enough silliness which smokescreens a whole lot of double entendres loved by the adults.
Finally, the children are encouraged to scream and shout at the action, slapstick comedy, and asides where sweets are thrown into the auditorium or the old water pistols are brought into play.
sophisticated, it isn't, but professional it certainly is and Aladdin last night at Rhyl's Pavilion was a typical example of of the craft which was as entertaining as it was colourful.
I didn't want to go
I'm still dreadfully antisocial at times and very low in family company
But the silliness, of it all perked the old spirits up.

Off to work tonight
Hey ho


Veronique

Thank you

Badly Done


I once ended a friendship after a friend publically insulted his partner at a dinner party.
It was a moment that proved to be uncomfortable all round and one that was incredibly reminiscent of that scene in Jane Austen's Emma, where Emma Woodhouse belittles the poor Miss Bates at a picnic gathering much to the shock of all present.
In the novel Emma is rebuked by her suitor Mr Knightly which causes her  much shame  and to this day I wish I had said something at the time.
There is a saying that one swallow doesn't make a summer, and so I was aware that the insult could have been just a misjudged out-of-the-blue  comment.but the venom of the rebuke was so graphic I suddenly felt that I had seen the true character of my friend and it coloured by feelings for him a second after I had heard it.
This was twenty years ago, and I still felt I should have said " Badly Done ..." at the time and so when I received a Christmas message from this former friend just two weeks ago I deleted it without a reply
" Some things that are said.....cannot be unsaid" 

Thank You..it's fucking over!


My Christmas is over....the cards are all down, the tree is planted in the garden and a strange bobble hatted figure has just dropped off my last gift.....a box of biscuits and a small plastic bulldog

A shadowy Mrs Trellis disappearing up the lane

It's now time to move on from this an emotionally hard Christmas to pastures new.
But I need to thank a few people.
Thank you to my family that have put up with my anti social behaviour with some alacrity ( even though it was honest and very real) ..and thank you to my sister Janet who I know I dragged to see Mary Poppins against her will.
Thank you to villagers Nick and Linda, Heulwen and Derek, Mrs T, John,Ed and the lovely Cameron's for their invites to socialise on Christmas Day and to the Cameron's again for calling in twice in order to deliver a surprise turkey dinner with all the trimmings as well as an " emergency "bottle of gin! My comment on your Facebook page stands " Good people ...good friends"
Thank you too to Wendy, Barbara Ann, gayle, Rachel, and to the anonymous ( Ter?) who posted me a snood  and 100£ in CASH!!!! ( you have single handed allowed me to pay for the field rent for the next year...money I just so didn't have to hand) - your gesture made me weep buckets!
Thank you all  for your cards, and gifts and kind wishes.....and emails ......and to Nu for that timely lunch!
Thank you Animal helper Pat for your Barabrith and to pippa for your Sams gifts!
Thank you to Sue for your hug and Boxing Day gifts and thank you Jon, Kim , Judy, mike for your kind texts of concern
Thank you Naomi, Nia, Jan, for my new Christmas decorations and to Greta for the gin !!
And thank you to the choir who made our concert such a special experience for me...I was so proud to be a part of it all
Ps.... oh thank you to dog breeder susan who told me that Mary's sister was expecting puppies in the new year !!!!!!!!!
Ok
I think that's everyone...
You get the message .....thank you xxx

Every Gusset a memory


Victoria Wood once said " I can remember when pants were pants. You wore them for twenty years, then you cut them down for pan scrubs.....every gusset a memory!"

This morning I reviewed my knicker drawer
It made for some dismal viewing.
I have exactly ten pairs of underpants.
Two of these have holes the size of an average guinea pig in their gussets.....
One looks grey and should be white
One pair has knicker elastic as lax as a vaginal prolapse
For nearly two decades I have never bought any pants and so this morning, somewhat late in the day I realised that it was about time I bought some.
As far as I can make out you now have to buy underwear which has the company logo on its waistband. To show this logo off, is the next job, especially when you bend over to tie your shoelaces or reach up on a shelf to retrieve a book.
It's all in the waistband!
So to the knicker aisle of TK MAXX  I went and thirty minutes later a whole lot of reduced pants were chosen and paid for. £ 6.00 for two pairs!
£ 30. 00 in total!
Enough to last me the next twenty years!

When I got home the Christmas decs were all taken down....I used this idea from my sister for storing the Christmas lights....they will illuminate the dark corners of the inglenook fireplace.


Tootsie


I first saw Tootsie 36 years ago
It was in the Odeon cinema in Chester and I was on a date with Mandy Boardman who was a student general nurse.
I watched the film again tonight and boy does it stand up well after all of these years.
A glorious cast of  Hoffman, Lange and  Pollack supported superbly by the likes of Terri Garr, Bill Murray, Charles Durning and Dabney Coleman look like they are having the time of their lives in this cross dressing comedy which still has so much to say about the gender gap, sexism and people's rights.
Written by Larry Galbert and Murray Schisgal and directed with confidence and  wit by Pollack himself Tootsie is a timeless classic that has been much copied but never quite beaten.
9/10
( my claim to fame was that I have almost sat in the same table as Pollack and Hoffman did in their Tootsie scene in the Russian Tea Room


Boxing Day


The dogs and I went to Colwyn Bay beach again this morning and walked along the Promenade. We shared a scotch egg ( a grateful gift from fellow blogger Sue ) and watched dog walkers and cyclists  for a long time in the weak sun before buying a coffee and a dry ham sandwich which we shared also in Bluebell .
Everyone seemed good humoured...it's less lonely in a crowd
This afternoon I re watched Mission Impossible and drank big cups of tea with wafer thin slices of barabrith slapped liberally with butter
It's how the Welsh eat it.

Merry Christmas

 


There is nothing bigger and more serious than a bulldog's lurve

Merry Christmas 

Eve

George in his new position of power

I've pulled up the drawbridge for Christmas.
It's the first one in two decades that I'll be going to bed alone 
And the first I have no one to present with a gift to first thing in the morning

I have a selection of DVDs to watch
To Kill A Mocking Bird, Mr Smith Goes To Washington, Women on the verge of a Nervous Breaksown and Admodova's classic A Fantastic Woman.
The wood burner is lit and will remain lit for the duration 
Thank you Ian, Barbara Ann, John for your gifts which arrived today
Special thank you to Terry(i) 
Thank you all for reading, supporting and caring


Mary Poppins


Mary Poppins Returns and seen objectively it does so rather well. 
The Children of Michael Banks ( Ben Whishaw) who is grieving for his recently deceased wife find themselves growing up in 1930 London rather all too quickly, so Mary Poppins (Emily Blunt) and cockney Lamp lighter Jack  ( Lin Manual Miranda) enter the family's life in order to inject fun and laughter in their depression filled world.
Whereas in the original it is Julie Andrew's Mary that gives the film its joyful heart it is Whishaw's doe eyed, and suitably sensitive father that steals the show and gives the remake its warmth. Indeed his mostly spoken song " A Conversation " which is in memory of his deceased wife is an incredibly moving piece of movie making and one that  had me weeping into my knitted scarf
Having said this Blunt is rather impressive as a rather more serious Poppins as is Miranda who is rather dishy in the Dick Van Dyke kinda role and the three child actors are wonderfully cute in a refreshingly  non Disney ish way-all give it rocks against the traditional 2 D animation from the original.
The set piece songs arnt as memorable as the ones in the original and the Jack's slightly rapping moment in a cartoon musical hall was a wrong move , but I did enjoy Meryl Streep' s musical cameo and the rehash of the chimney Sweeps dance moment around a London Park fountain and the finale with the cast being spirited away into the Skies over London was just enough for the audience to walk away smiling.

Ben Whishaw and Emily Mortimer as the grown up Banks Children



Gifts


I slept twelve hours last night and woke up to a marks and Spencer carrier bag of goodies left anonymously by the front door. Another package of a lovely winter scarf left by the postman was sent by blog reader Helen and yet another of dog treats left by the back door.
We are not going hungry this Christmas that's for sure..
Off to see Mary Poppins this afternoon......it's a wet gray day

How Mad Is That?


Arrived in London a way past midday
Met Nu for a long lunch at the very nice Granary Square Brasserie
Lovely food, 
Two bloody Mary's
Lots of laughs ,
Lots of tears
I'm back on the train home now and it's 4.30
How mad is that........?
And how therapeutic ..........