Pottery

 I had planned to go to the cinema today for a retry at watching The Last Duel 

I was pissed off because no where is now showing it.

I returned to the pottery studio instead.

It was my first time back and it will be nice to get to plan and construct my ceramic chess set again.

I bought this vase / bowl too.

I liked it’s robust proportions

Liverpool

I first met Nu way back in 1989 and for much of the early 1990s I socialised with her three physiotherapist friends in Sheffield and in Liverpool. 

Tonight I was reunited with all three, Dymphna, Gráinne and Hillary as well as Hillary’s husband Brian and Nu’s Hubby Jim. over in Liverpool and 27 years after we first met nothing very much had changed at all.

True , we all agreed , that most of us were now wearing non prescription reading glasses and all of us possessed more wrinkles  than we cared for having but the banter was as loud as it ever was.

And the laughter was as raucous as it was in the ledmill circa 1991 where the girls referred to me with the bizarre and unlikely  nickname of cheese n’ chives and I felt joyfully tearful when they yelled it at me again when I left them all, very squiffy in a lovely crowded Italian restaurant on Bold Street

Gráinne and Brian

Dymphna and The gloriously loud Hillary

I’m going to meet them all next year at Nuala and Jim’s cottage in Southern Ireland , I’ve decided to rent a small camper van and drive from Trelawnyd , over the ferry to Dún Laoghaire …it will be my second holiday in 2022….in September I will be going Seoul

Antigone

 The good thing about Gorgeous Dave is that he is up for most things socially and like me is keen to experience theatre which is out of his normal “ comfort box” .

Last night it was his turn to choose a venue and so he bought tickets to the Greek tragedy Antigone followed by an eclectic performance by a mixed group of deaf stand up artists described as A Night Of Sign.

All this was based at Chester’s Storyhouse theatre.

Initially I thought it was all going to be a bit of a slog, as the ancient Greeks were all a bit serious what with Oedipus shagging his mother Jocaster and the like but director Natasha Rickman with the writer Hollie McNish have forged a new telling of a story with deaf actors as the two leads and with British sign language and written captions enhancing the script and plot.

I didn’t know the story of Antigone and essentially it is a simple one. Antigone ‘s brothers, both kings of Thebes died fighting over their title . Their corrupt uncle Kreon becomes ruler and vilifies one brother over the other, refusing to let his body be buried and the story takes an interesting turn when the young princess Antigone stands up to the misogynistic king and defies him

The profoundly deaf actress Fatima Neimogha is stunning as Antigone .She not only acts through what is essentially a tough part but lives it with sign language and words complementing her words wonderfully.

   Unfortunately some aspects of the play didn’t work as well. The young, presumably student amateur actors in the supporting roles were wooden and awkward compared to the leads and the occasional use of 1980s pop songs intended to support and lighten the piece was a mistake.

But overall I enjoyed it.

The play was followed by an in house stand up performance by a selection of deaf performers which took place in the foyer barb of the Storyhouse. Deaf,comics, poetry performers, dancers and a rap artist took to the stage with the rapper Chris Fonseca(pictured) being a stand out (and I never thought I’d ever say that )

The whole evening sparked ( as it was intended to do) much discussion and debate on the car journey back, and it was almost midnight when I got home! 

This morning I’ve got off. I had rostered myself for an overtime shift to cover sickness but another nurse who lives a stones throw from the hospice volunteered  to cover saving me the long commute.

It’s breezy and colder today and I’m donning my pretentiously expensive  North Face jacket and woolly hat to take the dogs out.

It’s Liverpool later…..

It’s all go 

For Big Gay Rob

Home

 I want to be at home today

I am going to clean , and sort and wash and dust and tidy and control

Tonight I’m going to the theatre with Gorgeous Dave, then on to a comedy gig

But today I will regroup behind the thick cottage walls.

But not until I have a long read of Empire magazine, drink freshly brewed almond coffee and eat avocados drizzled with lemon and pepper on sourbread toast  with dry fried eggs……

Overtime

 

Covid cases seem on the rise in North Wales despite the face coverings

I’ve spent the last couple of hours at work firefighting staff shortages, most of them due to the virus

After much cajoling and some begging I managed to cover most of the gaps but still came home with a headache and very sore feet , which now smell of pedigree chum after Dorothy got let loose with them seconds after eating her supper.

I’m doing a half day overtime on Sunday morning  to help but I’m meeting bestie  Nu and some friends for dinner in Liverpool on Sunday afternoon and won’t miss that for anything.

I need a gin

Nu and I a decade ago x

 

Sheffield’s Manor

 

When I was a student nurse I had a placement with the district nurses in The Manor which was the well recognised roughest part of Sheffield .

The nurse I accompanied , was a no nonsense city woman. She drove a second hand car, called a spade a fucking spade and swore at joyriders in the street with a broad Sheffield accent 

She also told me not to look so  fucking gormless on our many visits 

Keep your wits about you she warned you look soft

I must have looked geeky….and painfully bookish

But I found her funny and  warm and big boned and I so wanted to please her, so we got on

Like a boy does with his favourite teacher.

I remember accompanying her to visit a man in the top of a block of flats who had terminal cancer. 

The man’s elderly and frail wife greeted us at the door with the comment “ Hes been a bit quiet all morning love” and I didn’t really notice my colleague quietly donning gloves and looping her stethoscope around her neck

The patient had bled to death in bed

He had bled from his mouth from a cancer of the oesophagus and unseen by his wife the blood had pooled inside his bedclothes and bed frame . 

My mentor passed me gloves and an apron silently  and asked the wife to make us a cup of tea.

My eyes grew to the size of saucers…the blood soaked the carpet black , like a pond in winter.

This was my very first traumatic death and I went on automatic pilot 

But I learned so very much that awful day

I learned to be calm in a crisis 

I learned how to break bad news with sensitivity and honesty 

I learned how to spare people’s feelings with information they didn’t need and

I learned how important it was to cry in the car afterwards and be hugged by a co worker who knew more and better than I did.

Her name was Janet and she was a district nurse in Sheffield many moons ago now

And she died last week of cancer at home , with her family and friends and a dog called Daisy around her

Getting A Boost

 Booster  jab

Stormy Weather

 

It’s been stormy overnight

I’ve slept badly 

Two long days at work now

Bucket of coffee this morning 

The lane feels cold

The Last Duel ….almost

 I often write about nice things but don’t let that fool you.

I’m not always a nice person .

I’ve had a mixed day all told. 

Dog walk.

Flu jab

A Meeting about the Church

All positive affairs to be sure

Then my arranged meet with a friend for a supportive chat was cancelled and so on the spur of the moment I booked a ticket to see The Last Duel ( the film raved about by Rachel on her blog) 

It’s a 52 Mile round trip to the cinema and I arrived in good time, buying a coffee for myself and I seated myself into my allotted seat in the dark cinema to wait.

We waited, and waited and waited and eventually the manager came out to say the film was “ rebooting ” and that it wouldn’t be long 

Over half an hour later we were still waiting and in one of his brief visits the manager told us the cinema had experienced several similar problems since they had reopened. 

Finally he told us that the film was cancelled and he was sorry and after handing out complementary tickets without a murmur the meagre audience got up to leave . He reminded everyone that the film was showing later again tonight and tomorrow.

Now that really pissed me off.

I wasn’t rude or loud or obnoxious but I was  quietly assertive and pointed.

I acknowledged that he wasn’t to blame personally but I told him that I thought the problem was not acceptable , especially as he had already acknowledged that similar issues had already been flagged up.

I also reminded him that we live in a rural county where people travel long distances just to see a movie and that any existing and recurrent problems should have be ironed out before the film was open for booking

 

I turned into one of those complainers I always hate to deal with myself.

A reasonable one that won’t lie down 

I’m like a dog with a bone

Anyhow I got my money back too. 

Was I unreasonable ? Don’t answer that one

I am what I am and I’m not asking for a lecture 

Like I said, I’m not always Julie Andrews

A Mercy Killing

I bought some new work shoes from Sainsbury’s today, they cost me 20£

When I got home I ceremoniously binned my crocs 

They had holes in the soles

I said a prayer over the Willie bin 

RIP 

 

Choir

It was time to return to choir 

Singing outside lacks the acoustic bang that the rafters of Gwaenysgor village Hall provide to our singing, and so after all of the risk assessments have been done, Jamie with his not so RAF 1940s lockdown beard decided it was safe enough for us all to return.

Meeting last week for Debra’s funeral underlined the power of our little choir, even though many of us in one section don’t even know the names of others in another.

Jamie’s mom, who sings with the soprano’s, described things rather personally and tearfully when she referred to the choir as family.

A family that shares songs rather than food, or history, or relationships 

Tenor Hattie hasn’t had her baby yet. 

Everyone has been asking.

Lindi ‘s dog Charlie has been sadly put down, and she wryly reminded the choir that no one will see “her Charlie” on zoom anyone, which was the constant lockdown choir joke.

I’ve just had a long bath which made me feel human again  and dressed in a clean outfit I was just about to have a coffee before choir when I spied an email from Hillary the choir secretary 

Choir cancelled tonight, it read, Jamie has a bug.

Bollocks ! 

Ps. village Elder Islwyn sent me this photo from the UK’s worst NATIONAL newspaper 

Brief and lacking in some detail for sure, but at least we’ve gone national 

Sunday

When you live alone, you fall into a pace that is uniform, which if not predictable, remains steady and measured. At midday I cut the remaining sweet peas from the garden arch and made a Korean gochujang stir fry sauce by mixing the hot gochujang paste with lemon juice, sesame oil, ginger, soy, Sherry and a bit of sugar .

I added it to sweet Spanish peppers, udon noodles, mushrooms and chicken and ate half with chopsticks and saved the rest for night shift supper.

I invested in a large jar of kimchi ( Fermented vegetables) a couple of weeks ago so had that as a small side dish 

I’m now farting with the force of the Queen Mary’s hooter because I went back for more

I washed windows, swept the path and visited the ponies with the dogs who strained their necks under the electric fencing in order to go a friendly nose to warm nose with new strangers.

I spoke to Nu who was travelling back to London from her second home in Ireland and arranged to meet her in Liverpool for dinner next Sunday. Saturday I’m going to see the acclaimed production of Antigone at the Chester Storyhouse with Gorgeous Dave which won’t be a bag of laughs but should be good and stimulating as it has a four star review in the press.

I’m also back to choir on Tuesday night.

We are finally returning to indoor singing.

I rearranged the cutlery drawer, filling one of the slots with my new collection of chopsticks which was geeking satisfying and started Richard Osman’s new mystery The Man Who Died Twice on the couch as Dorothy went at it on my sore knee.

It was here we all fell asleep 

Until the light faded and the cold air from the open back door woke me up well after five.

 

Family Snap

 I found this on my phone last night

I’d forgotten about it because ….

I was slightly pissed wheni took it.

It’s a photo snap of a photograph taken in the wedding photo booth late Friday night

I liked this silly addition to modern wedding etiquette 

A booth where drunk wedding guests could dress up like loons and get photographed as a memory in lieu of those vapid formal wedding photos of yesteryear 

The photo was then put into an album with written comments by the sitters

All I wrote was “ There’s life in the old dogs yet”

I think it summed up things quite nicely….well so I thought….

I’m on nights later today , so I’ve been out for a long walk and breakfast at y shed

Mary waited patiently whilst Dorothy chewed her lead until it snapped

I’m a bit Tired of all and then nothing ……..

Dancing

You can feel that things can become somewhat anticlimactic after the business of a wedding.

Ive pottered today then met Chic Eleanor for an early supper and some “darling John time” at The Crown 

Tonight I’ve settled down to read the rest of Miriam Margolyes autobiography .

I’m not following Strictly,but was greatly moved-by the above professional routine of last week

The Best Bit

 

There's always a best bit of any wedding

What was Mine?

Dancing with my sister janet to Abba!

Wedding Day

Bit squiffy

Bro In law Tim,sister in law Jayne, me,elder sister Ann .twin Janet and her husband ned

Before The wedding

 Bucket of coffee and it’s another day.

Yesterday was a sad one

Today will be a happy one

It’s my nephew’s wedding

I’m sipping decaf this morning but it’s a good one

And am looking a my art wall which is now complete 

The last wedding I went to was my own

It will be good to go to another 

A Country Funeral

 

We have lost three members of the choir this last year.

And today the choir sang at soprano Deb’s funeral.

It was an emotional and difficult afternoon all told. 

Difficult because Deb’s partner is also a chorister 

And difficult because of the fact that Deb took her own life, 

A suicide by fire.

Caerwys church is a robust handsome little Church hidden away in the centre of a large village six miles South of Trelawnyd. The choir met around 1pm and we Sheltered from the cold against the wall next to the main door, hands in pockets.

In Wales covid rules still apply at funerals, so only 30 mourners were in Church.

A hundred or so people lined the Church paths outside and as the coffin was brought in under a grey sky growing heavier from the North,  we sang a selection of quiet, gentle songs,  rather shakily I thought.

The service was relayed through speakers to the people in the graveyard and we listened to an emotional, intensely personal  and totally woman led service which had a certain warmth all of its own.

The choir surprised the congregation by singing one of Deb’s favourite African songs as the coffin left the Church and it was lovely and rather heartbreaking to see her partner Claire, who usually sings tenor next to me,  singing it too with a sad smile on her face but with her head held high against the chill of the afternoon.

Meatball Mary

Both dogs have been clingy after my two long days at work

Mary fell asleep tonight, well after nine, she was  sitting up on my knee 

With a single Swedish meatball still in her mouth 

I’ve just messaged my sister saying I hope we will have fun at the wedding