This sort of broke my heart a little but uplifted it too
Tula Tula
A new normal has begun me thinks.
Travel chaos seems to springing up in hotspots.
Covid has reached another hidden peak
And The Archers have finally returned to their Friday night, 7 pm slot.
I listened to The Archers with interest last night ( For those that perhaps don’t know , The Archers is a radio 4;soap opera which has been running nightly ( except Saturdays) since 1951. It airs for under fifteen minutes a night and centres upon the farming community of Ambridge located in the Midlands)
During the programme, the only Welsh character Natasha ( Mali Harries) has brought her newly born twins home with clueless husband Tom. Whilst the usual banal banter continued ,Natasha and her mother sang a lullaby ( Suo Gân)to the twins in Welsh, the two woman harmonising quite beautifully.
It proved to be a rather sweet moment of gentle drama and pathos in a soap, not always known for its subtly and it’s nostalgia and sense of place can be described well by the welsh word Hiraith
Recently one of our more serious and devout nurses left the hospice and I remember her gently singing the Welsh Hymm Dros Gymru’n Gwlad alongside a patient who was approaching end of life. The music to the hymn is well known to me as we sing a version of it it choir. Sibelius’ Finlandia, but there is something magic and somewhat humbling when you hear someone else sing it out, without embarrassment of self doubt.
Years ago, and I mean perhaps, twenty five years I remember watching one of the African nurses singing a lullaby to a young male patient who couldn’t sleep. The boy was paralysed from the chest down, and was on strict bed rest so she almost knelt at the side of his bed and held his hand, which she placed under her chin so he could feel the song as well as hear it.
The lullaby was called Tula Tula and I remember to this day how the busy ward slowly quietened to silence as everyone, patients and staff, all stopped to listen
Conwy Estuary from Deganwy
It’s not many people that have a full scale medieval castle which dominates an estuary as a view on the way home from work.
I stopped this morning to look at the view.
And felt grateful
A Good Read
I’ve read most of the morning
It’s an indulgence I rarely allow myself during the day, and it’s interesting that I only allowed myself the time to do it once every chore I could think of had already been completed.
I take after my mother in that respect.
She would only have a drink once all the hoovering had been done
Little Women
Grosvenor Park Open AirTheatre was holding their version of Little Women tonight
The night the heatwave properly broke and the heavens opened.
But it was fun
My sister and I got incredibly wet
The open air theatre produces bawdy, musical and comic versions of classic novels and reworked Little Women into a 1914 Edwardian Chester drama with the March sisters , working in ammunition factories, nursing soldiers in hospital and with Laurie going off to war in the trenches.
It worked rather well, which is surprising.
The actors were as soaked as the audience which endeared us, especially to the doomed Beth , who slipped and fell flat on her face on stage just before her death.
A death which was incredibly moving , given the lightness of the production.
I’ve always remembered her matter of fact speech to sister Jo
“ I have a feeling that it never was intended I should live long. I'm not like the rest of you. I never made any plans about what I'd do when I grew up. I never thought of being married, as you all did. I couldn't seem to imagine myself anything but stupid little Beth, trotting about at home, of no use anywhere but there. I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I'm not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven."
You can see the rain
Ive had a nice week…..working sat and sunday Prima Facie
I’m a bit breathless
Prima Facie , the filmed play by Suzie Miller has left me thoughtful and somewhat shaken .
A one woman show, it has Jodie Comer playing, Tessa an incredibly successful criminal barrister in London. Tessa has made good from her working class Liverpudlian roots and by using every trick in her considerable arsenal she has proved herself to be especially adept in defending men in sexual assault cases. Now Tessa clearly proclaims that she always works to prove the legal truth in her cases and this is a game to point out the holes in the prosecutions case and this game is a game she is good at.
However, when she is assaulted herself, by a potential boyfriend who is also a successful barrister, she is left to fight a paternalistic legal system weighted against her as a woman.
Comer is truly remarkable as Tessa. With real Liverpudlian timing she hits her delivery with true machine gun zeal and that pace is maintained full speed for two hours straight.
I couldn’t quite believe she maintained the pace and the emotion throughout
Stunning.
Quite Stunning
Watering Rabbits
The thunderstorms which have been promised haven’t materialised. Subsequently the ground is dry as a bone and the grass on the field is like straw, yellow and burnt.
I climbed up the field gate and over the church wall.
It wasn’t a pretty sight.
All arse and groaning!!!
I refilled the shallow enamelled dish with water, the one I’d placed out a week ago to water the rabbits, then watered my laburnum which is looking healthy and happy.
It took the rabbits a few days to feel safe with the dish and it’s satisfying watch them, a whole gaggle of birds and the stray white cat drinking from it, especially at dusk.
The dish, laburnum ( top right) and the historic thirteenth century church prayer cross on the top left
I’ve done a pile of paperwork today. Bought a new washing machine on line and measured the outside of the cottage for the CBM who will be designing a roof for the patio before autumn .
I’m about the embark on downsizing the spare room which is in drastic need of simplifying .
I want it streamlined and simple.
Ready for becoming a proper study for September’s course
Ness Gardens
My friend Colin and I met, like two middle class ladies sometimes do , for lunch and a mooch around Ness Gardens .
The place was more or less deserted
I bought a white agapanthus from the shop
Epiphany
What’s the pleural of epiphany?
Whatever the answer maybe, I think I’ve had a succession of “small” epiphanies since my birthday and beyond.
When I really think of it, when life changed after lockdown was the real start of it all.
When I say epiphanies, what I really mean is ideas and thoughts which have flickered like Christmas Tree fairy lights in and out of my consciousness until they figure more importantly than not in everyday life.
Many of these became clearer after my brief break in Findhorn and the age old red letter day of reaching my 60th birthday.
The overall sense of these flickering lights is that I’m now embarking on that final decade(s) of my life and it’s now time for proper change.
My father died in his early sixties, my brother at 58 and I’m very aware of my mortality in real terms
Now I’m fully aware that since my husband left me, I have built a new life and career for myself from more or less nothing. I am financially more stable than I’ve been for years , I have saved my home and have made a passable social life for myself through and despite covid but things haven’t been quite enough for me.
There has to be more.
There IS more
Pushing myself mentally and academically is one new start and is an important one for me.
Letting go of nursing is another.
And finally letting go of the old ghosts of my marriage is the final and most vital bit of the jigsaw.
He has gone, and I know why.
The next decade has to change totally.
Mentally, physically and socially and for the first time , in a very very long time in my life
I’m ready for more change.
Like I said , this could be my last decade
And only I am in the driving seat
A Town Like Alice
Filmed obviously in 1956 ( continuity forgot to period dress the cast) this little remembered movie of the famous Shute novel proved to be a little hidden gem this morning. Set in Malaya during the war it centres around the plight of a group of English women and children forced to March across the country in search of a prisoner of war camp which will house them.
Marie Lohr as Mrs Dudley Frost
Renee Houston as Ebbey
Virginia McKenna plays the groups pragmatic leader is supported ably by a whole gaggle of British character actors such as Jean Anderson, Marie Lohr, Renee Houston and Nora Nicholson.who play the typical cross section of colonial types later poached by the the series Tenko.
It’s a cracking movie, which steals only part of the novel which really concentrates on the love affair between McKenna’s character and a bravura Australian squaddie Peter Finch who is eventually crucified by a sadistic Japanese Captain Yanyata.
I really enjoyed it and was kind of sad when it finished before midday.
Since then , I’ve just mooched. The dogs are listless and bored in the heat and there are jobs that need doing but I don’t feel like starting anything
I’m making a list of them
Salad with pomegranate seeds and mango for tea
Choir later
Late Dog Walk
Dorothy swam in a river in Dyserth this evening in an effort to keep cool.
It was almost dark when she dived in with eyes closed
Mary stayed by my side , pursing her lips.
I haven’t been so proud since I attended my ex husbands doctorate graduation
She swam like a baby hippo, head held high, sharp doggy paddle, big smile on her face
And it totally made my week, if not my month when she struck out from the bank like a professional.
I never knew the daft old girl could do water like an otter
But she did and like a new dad , it made my day.
And I cried silly tears as she eventually made for shore.
Smiling like a loon
She’s now snoring loudly dripping the blue trendy sofa in water
Chatty Cathy
Bluebell tells be its 95 degrees in old money
Which is too hot by anyone’s money
Constance
It’s been almost 30 degrees here yesterday and just too hot for bulldogs outside.
This will be a “ Chatty Cathy” kind of blog today.
I took the dogs for an early walk and that will be it until tonight after dusk.
For those that remember Constance ( my first rescue bulldog) they may recall that she died walking on only a mildly warm day. She was an old dog, who had health issues , but the heat could well have been a factor in her death and I will never take that chance again, never
I couldn’t get off to sleep so found a Valium tablet left over from my husband’s nervous flyer days in the medicine box and slept the sleep of the dead until it was ready for work. I took magnum ice creams in for day and night staff when I came on duty as a bit of a morale booster and as the hospice has no air con in the patient areas we have set up fans throughout the building corridors which now has a cooling rush of breeze about them.
I am reminded of the convent in Black Narcissus
It’s all very comfortable if a little breezy.
I was due to collect Roger tomorrow , but it is a long drive to Alfreton and I just knew his breeder would cancel because of the heat . I’ve provisionally rearranged for the 1st of August. She describes him as “ Smart but cuddly”
Now I have five days off……part time status is hitting home just a little.
Whooooo hooooo
I’ve enrolled in the counselling course which starts in September and have sent all the paperwork off as well as the fees so that’s another box ticked.
The rest of the week has been organised with my typical and no doubt irritating detail
Choir returns tomorrow , Wednesday it’s Ness Gardens for a mooch and lunch with a friend and Thursday Ive got tickets to the filmed version of Jodie Comer’s hit play Prima Facie
Friday my sister and I are going to the Grovensor Park Open Air Theatre to see Little Women which will be frothy fun all told.
Check Out
I get very exasperated at supermarket check outs
I always have.
Women tend to wind me up the most, as it is common for them not to have their payment cards ready when the cashier states the cost of a shop.
We then have to suffer the whole rigmarole of the where’s my handbag ? face.
The unzipping of the bag, the fishing for the purse and the shuffling for the cards go next and before we can proceed the whole procedure has to bet into reverse before they can start loading bags into trolleys.
I try to look away before any of the dithering starts
But it’s like a car crash,
You can’t look away.
Yesterday, I was stood behind an older couple ( 65 perhaps) where she verbalised to her henpecked hubby where every item was to be placed and in which bag. To be honest I only noticed when I caught the cashier’s gaze, who was desperately trying not to smile and conspiratorially we watched the drama unfold until the husband finally offered the wrong bag up for filling and his wife slapped the bag away with her hand
In a fit of pique, the husband waved his arms above his head and stormed off snapping “You cow” leaving the wife to do the where’s my handbag? thing as well as proclaiming I don’t know what’s that all about.
I didn’t look at the cashier until the woman was walking away and we then both burst into giggles
“ I’m very tired “ the cashier said in way of explanation. “ But that poor man”
We giggled some more.
I tell you this small tale on the back of a now deleted post by Rachel Philips who shared a funny and well written post about how singletons can inflate health worries to Diva- esque levels when they are alone in the house without the constraints and common sense sense of a companion.
The cashier was the only person I had spoken to all day.
And therefore the joke, the shared humanity of the altercation
Was even more important and significant.
The scene between us, a wonderfully timed conspiratorial bit of fun.
Butterflies
My sister called yesterday to bash the garden into shape.
We discussed the total absence of honey bees and butterflies on the buddliea bushes in the garden which have just burst into bloom.
I checked each of the three bushes in turn.
Not one pollinator could be seen.
Their absence has worried me for days now.
Perhaps it’s because today seems warmer, a precursor to the proclaimed horror temperature due on Monday, but this afternoon the bees were back in good numbers and the butterflies, noticeable in ones and twos rather than the dozens I was used to last year.
The back garden buddliea
I cooked stir fry vegetables and mixed them with udon noodles and hot Korean sauce for supper.
I’m back on nights tonight.
A Pretty Shitty Love
I am glad and thankful that I have no hang ups about going to the theatre on my own.
Tonight, I grabbed a cheap 10£ ticket for Theatre Clwyd ‘s production of A Pretty Shitty Love by Katherine Chandler and again I was stunned by an innovative, provocative and intensely moving piece of Theatre.
A two handed piece set in working South Wales we are introduced to a cheerful but damaged Hayley ( Danielle Bird) abandoned by an alcoholic father as a child and desperate for love. The object of her affection is the taciturn and damaged soul Carl ( Daniel Hawksworth) the product of a drug induced death mother as a teen. The couple’s tragic love affair is cleverly portrayed in and around a Perspex set full of photos and words from Hayley’s prison letters to Carl and although the physical violence of the abuse between perpetrator and victim is only alluded to the true horror of the violence is underlined by one, clever but truly horrid scene when Hayley s left for dead and buried on a Sandy beach.
Domestic Violence has been depicted many times in stage and screen as we all know but this production, which depicts a true story, brings a new terrible light to an age old abuse problem.
Evening Stroll
Walk a few steps past the ponies and this is my view of the valley to the South West.
I forget sometimes just how beautiful it can be.
The dogs, Albert and I walked to look at the view this evening.
A peaceful walk.
Roger arrives next week so things will be fraught for a while .
Puppies can be exhausting if you let them be .
I know, I’ve had enough of them
I’ve painted the upstairs doors a gloss white today,
Another necessary job to do before a puppy arrives.
Wipe clean surfaces are the order of the day.
I’ve sorted out my sister’s birthday trip on the 27th. I’ve rebooked trains for the day before the strike and booked us another hotel room for the night. Not the boutique Z Hotel in Covent Garden , that was full, but a travel lodge on Drury Lane.
I hear there are more rail strikes for the weekend of the 30th
Thank fuck I’m working that weekend.
Crossing the Bar
I had bought my friend Ruth a ticket to her favourite chorale group The Spooky Men for her birthday . With her all communed up in Scotland I was in two minds driving a hour West to see them last night, but having managed to get a work friend Steve to take the spare ticket I went.
It was a great concert, set in the historic Capel Jerusalem in Bethesda.
Funny, innovative, odd and at times incredibly moving , The Spooky Men , perform their own songs about such varied subjects of sad audience members, eyebrows, Men’s Groups and politics ( Vote The Bastards Out being a highlight)
But they peppered the humour with some truly beautiful singing , with a couple of Ukrainian folk songs and the sublime Crossing The Bar being true standouts.
I could hear several of our choir members singing in the audience as like me, they went to support Conductor Jamie ( sans his RAF moustache ) who is a guest choir member on The Spooky men’s Uk tour.
Jamie is on the far left
Ps . Remember that I’m taking Janet my sister to London for her birthday treat? Well the RMT has decided to strike that day !
Heyho
1970s Holidays
I never went abroad as a child with the exception of my near fatal visit to Lloret de mar with my sister, Mother and Aunt Greta when I was a ten year old.
My memories, apart from the drowning centre mainly around large ants, the smell of leather goods in the thousands of shops my mother dragged us into and fields of hotel filled flooring.
The rest of the very few family holidays we had were in a beige caravan in Scotland, complete with orange melamine cups, midges, and family arguments.
Holidays were never happy affairs when we were children.
A thing that changed considerably when, as older teenagers, we were invited away with my elder sister and her family to Spain, where we sat at restaurant tables, were allowed to drink and were treated as adults for the first time in our lives.
My parents were not bad people, they were just a little sad and unable parent very well, but that did not mean that they did not want to, for I remember after my father had uncharacteristically made my sister and I laugh as we sat in the back of the car and only after he had got out to do something, my mother made a pointed comment that he wasn’t all bad.
Another dampener in another rain covered lay-by near Drumnadrochit.
Next week,(easyJet permitting) my family will be meeting up in Sitges at The Santa Maria.
I’m only popping over for three days but it will be enough to remind me of those first teenage holidays where we’re had fun for the first time and learned how to be adults
Life Finds A Way
I was busy yesterday, as I was the two days before
Four loads of washing, cutting the lawn, watering 30 planters,housework, painting
I overdid it
My post covid lethargy is back with a vengeance today and I have slept most of the morning.
I can’t quite get going, a feeling not helped by the weather which is humid and overcast .
It has rained very gently off and on all day, but the rain has been so gentle, the droplets have more or less evaporated before the ground got wet.
The buddliea in the garden has suddenly blossomed in the heat but there are no butterflies to be seen on them at present. I can’t wait for them to return
As I took the dogs out I noticed this perfect little antirrhinum clinging onto the cottage garden wall.
My sisters and extended family have now booked to meet at La Santa Maria Hotel in Sitges next month. I was in two minds to join them , but I have booked my flights nevertheless
Why the fuck not? Let’s take a chance .
The humid conditions here today coupled with my thoughts of the shabby chic Santa Maria transported me to those cheapo holidays in the sun of yesteryear.
1972 Lloret de mar.
Never supervised once in the pool by my mother
I nearly drowned in the deep end after slipping through my rubber ring
Today it’s called neglect
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