A Turd On The Picnic Rug

Bulldogs have no inhibitions.

It’s one of their less charming of traits

They are not self conscious about anything, unlike Welsh Terriers who will back into a bush in order to have a poo whilst on a walk and who will hesitate politely when offered a morsel of food from a stranger.

Years ago you may remember that Winnie held up the traffic on the  village zebra crossing at school pick up time in order to have her bowels well and truly opened and was well known for stealing food out of people’s hands if allowed.

She once stole a Farley’s rusk from the bottom shelf of a baby pram in the churchyard and even forced her entire head into an old lady’s handbag in order to retrieve a discarded polo mint.   

One time she even went missing when I had a British telecom workman in and I found her sitting in the passenger seat of his van eating a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

Anyhow, back to this morning and on our morning walk Dorothy spied a group of people preparing a picnic breakfast at the Dyserth Walkway and before I could stop her , had ambled over.  

Now before I get berated for not controlling my bulldog here, in my defence, the woman who had just laid one of those tartan, plastic backed picnic rugs on the ground,  did welcome Dorothy over with a “Well hello beautiful , are you coming to say hi ?”and being a sociable sort Dorothy nonchalantly  walked across the rug to say hello.

I could already see that there was no food on the rug, only a selection of crockery mugs and a Basket so I walked on giving the group a proud smile as they crooned and patted over a smiling Dorothy.

The ooohhhs and arrhhhhs of welcome suddenly changed however to embarrassed laughter, a shriek !! and a panicked no no no no !!!! and I turned quickly to see Dorothy squatting manfully in the the centre of the rug where she was in the final process of laying  a very large industrial sized Steaming turd.

She smiled encouragingly to all as it plopped onto the rug like a bucketful of wet cement 

 

The shame

Mamma Mia film Night

 

The TCA film night kicked off tonight and I’m glad I pushed past no sleep to help out well….until Pierce Brosnan started to sing him dreadful set piece SOS and I sneaked home, well before half time, after a couple of large white wines and gossip with the velvet voiced Linda and Lorraine from the Garden Centre

We had twenty five people turn up, mostly the women and children of the village , so it was more a practice night to sort logistics and technical issues out ( Thanks to Andrew And Dave who sorted out the speaker problems)

I think the event will grow with some lateral thinking 

The aubretia is bright purple on the Walls of Chapel Street and the blossom vibrant on the village green.

It was nice to get home 

I’m tired today

No sleep today…..I need a catch up too…..btw Roger goes in next week for his snip, and not a moment too soon,

And Just Like That Season 2 | Official Teaser | Max

20 things You Didn’t Know About me

A lazy Post

1. The first guy I had a relationship with, was a cheerful scouse medic called Roger...... he lived in Manchester and I lived in Sheffield, so we basically saw each other at weekends, high days and holidays......
After 9 months a friend of his, who decided that she liked me more than him, rang me up one day to inform me that he had a fiance ( A WOMAN!) ,(who he lived with) ...suffice to say I didn't get an invite to the day do!

2. In 1984 I did a parachute jump for charity even though I cannot abide heights.
Luckily I was connected to a static line, which thankfully opened my chute automatically as I totally forgot any of my pre jump training...........
I wore one of my Brother's old all in one silver rally suits ( I was showing off ) which totally got covered in shit when I crash landed into a ploughed field, subsequently broke my collar bone and got dragged around it for an age when the wind caught in my canvas!

3. I was once voted "best arse" in the Prestatyn High School 6th form awards ( no jokes please!)

4. I never owned a dog until I was 40

5. I was once attacked by an 80 year old hebephrenic schizophrenic when I was kneeling on the floor putting on her slippers..........she blacked both my eyes and knocked me unconscious .

6. As a child I nearly died twice...... I once choked on a mint imperial when I was around 8, and was saved by my quick thinking mother who upended me over a sink in my father's shop to dislodge the offending sweet .
I also very nearly drowned in a hotel swimming pool in Loret del Mar (Spain).....I went under for the third time.....silently ( I didn;t want to make a fuss) and was only saved when a man noticing my hand poking up through the water, lifted me onto the side of the pool.....
I have never liked water since! (and to be honest I have never been too keen on mint imperials either!)

7. I suffer from sleep apnoea.....once, at the Guttman's Paralympic village when I was sharing a dormitory with a score a paraplegics...... the lads got so sick of my snoring so much so, that in the middle of the night they got up in their wheelchairs and pushed my bed through the emergency exit!

8. I am colour blind........(take a look at my fashion sense if you find that a difficult one to believe)

9. Walking down 2nd Avenue in New York on one rainy Monday morning, I once literally bumped into Sigourney Weaver

10. I have never been arrested but I was once cautioned by two York policemen having a pee in the street dressed as a gorilla 

11. I can play chess moderately well

12. I have a deformity of my left index finger called dupuytren’s contracture 

13. I have traveled on the fastest zip wire in the world, velocity 2 in Snowdonia

14. I have written Going Gently almost every day since 29th December 2005

15. I have watched 5 babies born including twin girls. I have used a defibrillator  3 times and have been involved in one hospital fire and evacuation.

16. My favourite city to visit is New York which I have gone to eight times ( or is it 9?)

17. I have no middle name

18. I can dispatch a chicken if needed and have been trained to gut , pluck and prepare a carcass

19. I learned to Swim when I was 41

20.  My first job was at the Nat West Bank. On my reference for psychiatric nursing Mr Williams the sub manager wrote “ As a bank clerk John clearly shows the potential for psychiatric nursing” 

Marina Abramović & Ulay On Their Meeting at MoMA |

 It was around 1 pm when I realised I’d not spoken a word today. I was walking the dogs down the lane and Polish Monika stopped me to ask how Trefor was doing. 

I’m not complaining, I’m just observing .

Of course I’m in work later with a lovely support worker who will chat away to me merrily all night if I want her to but that’s not what I was talking about.

When you live alone that’s what happens.

This isn’t a mournful post today, but it is a thoughtful one. 

The cherry tree has blossomed in the corner of the Churchyard and I stopped to look at it’s vibrant pink blooms from the lane bottom. 

Now when. did the likes of a pink tree please me so much? 

It feels warmer outside than inside today…I will go to bed shortly for a nap.

I’ve been dreaming odd dreams of late

This morning it was opening of odd Christmas gifts aboard a train crashing down a mountainside.

and the moving of  my belongings from a fractured old house

Figure those out of Freud .

I make pea soup for lunch and stir fried noodles for supper and listen to Max Richter’s On The Nature of Daylight, watched by my morphed family stood on the kitchen radiator. 

They watch and never speak 

I remember my grandmother’s fingers stroking my hair when I was a little boy

Watched

 On the phone to Nu this morning.

Bucket of coffee

Extra shift this afternoon

Being watched by the troops

News

 

Yesterday’s post didn’t need adding too. 

I found the whole thing incredibly moving.

I’m at a study day in Bangor today which is at least an hour’s drive for me here in Trelawnyd. 

It will be a long day as after the study day, I’m in college which is least on the way home. I won’t be back to the village until after 9 pm. Thank goodness for Trendy Carol and her hubby who will be dog sitting.

Yesterday was a self care sort of day.

I jet washed Bluebell and spring cleaned her interior, which pleased me greatly.I made a sort of Thai noodle thing with half fat coconut milk for today’s lunch and a spiced butternut squash soup for my tea. 

I washed and repaired my broken gargoyle and placed him in the inglenook and banked another 400 pounds in sponsorships for the memorial hall windows .

And my friend Colin texted with pictures of our shabby chic hotel in Venice which has been all booked and paid for ……what fun…Venice, 

To be fair most people go on holiday for 2 weeks , I’m having three , three day city breaks instead …( as well as three London visits , one with my sister Janet to re visit Les Miserables and one to the Royal Opera  House to see La Traviata with Nu for her birthday ! ( Shussshh don’t tell her )

Anyhow last night Roger climbed into bed in the wee small hours after something had frightened him in the kitchen around 2 am . He always chooses to sleep there in order to protect the cottage but sometimes his nerves fail him and a strange noise will have him scurrying upstairs in order to ask for a cuddle 

Last night I think it was an owl in the churchyard 

It’s been calling for days.

He then slept curled up , under my chin, after he patted me awake.

He slept 

With his eyes tightly shut as children do when they cuddle up after a fright.

 

"A minute of silence" by Artist Marina Abramovic

Rob’s Back

 

The Archers has been all a bit flat recently . Jennifer Aldridge’s sudden death was shocking enough, Ben ‘s mental breakdown is almost forgotten and Chelsea’s bounced back rather quickly after her abortion so I wasn’t surprised that we are being prodded by Easter eggs premonitions that psychopath Rob Titchener maybe lurking back in Ambridge to haunt poor boring Helen and her dreadful boyfriend Lee

The “Rob” arc in The Archers was seven years ago now, and it was , to be fair, a rather gripping storyline for a radio soap opera. 

My predictions for the drama is that Rob  will return and that Lee will turn out his victim 

Mark my words 

Emergency

 Well come the zombie apocalypse I’m fucked

The Government warning obviously didn’t reach Trelawnyd even though the village does have an emergency plan, where the Memorial hall ( with its own generator organised by the TCA ) will provide the  village with a powered emergency shelter and mini hospital. 

No alert on my phone at 3 pm

Not an effin sausage 

The Pond

 It was rather fine at lunchtime so helping to weed the pond wasn’t arduous or unpleasant 

There was something rather nice working away alongside old friends and the space looked lovely when we had finished 

Village leader Ian even saw a frog and As Nick brought the coffee , Bridget sorted out her “own” bara brith

I was so sore after the exertion …..shows my age lol 

A Thong For Europe, Pond, News and Flis

 

I am lucky, living in Wales near the border as it’s only 29 minutes ! by car to Chester and only an hour or so from Liverpool. 

Last night I bought tickets for A Thong For Europe at The Royal Court , now I knew what I was getting into ( the title somewhat gives away a degree of dumbing down) and I was right.

Think of a Liverpudlian pantomime on steroids set against the backdrop of the City’s venture into Eurovision stardom and you may get the gist. 

Writer Jonathon Harvey loves his grotesque, matriarchal characters and Lulu ( Lindi Germain) is not a stones throw from Linda Ha Hughes ( His Kathy Burke Character in Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie) she opens the show with a bang, when she gives a hilarious and foul mouthed eulogy for his mother in church , a mother who loved Eurovision and whose ghost will haunt her is she cannot scatter her ashes on the Eurovision stage.

I think you are aware of the the level the musical is heading for from its opening moments and despite its silliness , the foul mouthed, Liverpudlian humour hits you between the eyes from the get go and it is what it is. An affectionate look at Eurovision from the eyes of a dysfunctional family of stereotypes.

Harvey throws everything at it , with a selection of iconic Eurovision entries to get the crowd clapping, a bizarre and rather amusing appearance  of a Sonia lookalike ( Sonia is a one trick UK Eurovision entry from Liverpool in 1993) and more scouse humour than could be seen at a Ken Dodd convention .

The mostly female audience , several of them almost collapsing drunk, were out for a good time , and boy did they have it, ( a fact that reminded me of my recent post of bad behaviour in theatres) 

But the whole musical was frothy, happy rubbish , so nobody cared too much .

I was home just before midnight, which wasn’t bad timing, even on the occasional school night. Liverpool has a good selection of theatres  too, which perhaps I’ve underused over the years. …time for a change me thinks.

Anyway I’ve had a nice, busy and enjoyable week off so far. 

I’m about to go and join a few more volunteers and will weed the pond borders shortly.

That will be about it for today.

And I will post some photos shortly.

I also note that blog commentator Flis has been absent for a while. I understand that one troll has taken a dislike of her comments and often says so, which is rude, nasty  and bullying behaviour. Flis has gone quiet and I want her to know that she is always welcomed here. 

End of.

Now I’ll end today on a light note. And a happy one.

Facebook has a memory app thing that shows you posts from years ago.

These photos were sent to me the other day .

They are from a sunny afternoon when I babysat the Randa girls one day and I decided to show them how to blow and decorate goose eggs

We had such a happy time messing about with those eggs on the lawn.

A precious memory now the girls are grown up now.

Little Women indeed.

Spring Cleaned

The front room has been spring cleaned and Chic Eleanor , the queen of style 

Gave me a massive compliment when we were out for coffee this afternoon

She told me I had a talent for the attention to detail 

Coming from her, that’s praise indeed

Local News Strong Women

 As I am one of the TCA trustees I was asked by the secretary of the village Friendship Group if I would write them a letter of support for their forthcoming applications for community grants. 

I jumped to attention and completed the letter as quickly as I could  as it was requested by respected  village elder. Now The Secretary has always frightened me just a little. She is an assertive soul, a lady who has been big in the village church for years and I suspect a lot has been achieved because of her professional and cool approach to problems and needs. 

In a war She  would have been a bloody godsend .

I love the Friendship Group,  to me they have always thought laterally and for a group for older people , they still have a membership of over 65 people which I think is fantastic. 

Only a few years ago , they had a belly dancer show on one of their meetings in the hall , which I remember well as I listened to the belly dancing music from outside as I took the dogs for a walk and wondered just what the fuck was going on inside…..the applause and cheering was deafening lol .

Just to add to some local colour Irene Murray who has helped run the Friendship Group for 40 years , helped me run the Flower Show for years ( and with Sylvia Evans before me ) and my headstrong and sorted soay ewe was named after her with good reason 

Irene 

And Irene. 

Yesterday I dropped in some flowers to another neighbour who I have just heard has been rather unwell. Flowers are not a panacea to all ills but they are pretty and they underline your best wishes well .I’m a firm believer in flowers as gifts, they say more than words often can . 

The sponsorship of the memorial Hall windows , continues to be a success , one lady rang me yesterday to see if I could change which window she was allocated in memory of her parents and of course I said yes. 

She asked me to allocate her a window which overlooked her mother’s former house because It meant so much to her. These things do so much don’t they ? 

Today I’m spring cleaning the living room and as a treat afterwards I’m meeting up with another of Trelawnyd’s women Chic Eleanor for coffee. 

The front room rug has already been washed and is drying in the sun on the front lawn

I’ve not heard the calves this morning as yet, which is strange as the living room windows are open wide and a cool breeze is flowing through the cottage like an avalanche 

Swimming the Channel

 Bluebell broke down again today which was more my fault than hers. The same easily mended issue with the gear stick which I promised myself I’d sort two months ago. The RAC man should have bollocked me but he didn’t and I was on my way within an hour.

I’d broken down next to the pond in the next village, So the hour turned to be incredibly relaxing.

I rearranged the inside of the car, moved lunch with my friend to Friday and arranged a visit to see old Trefor at his nursing home in Rhyl later today. 

I found some general purpose wipes and washed my face and in a fit of self care rooted into the glove box and found a container of face moisturiser accidentally left in the car by work colleague. 

Without really thinking I took a huge scoop and lathered my face as though I was about to swim the channel then looked up through the windscreen. 

What was I thinking?

Walking towards me, not ten yards away from Bluebell were three hikers.

I rubbed my face and the bloody stuff didn’t disappear as I expected it to, so when the hikers came to pass me they saw this face looking back at them 

I shouldn’t be let out I really !

This afternoon I fared better. I bought a selection of newspapers and visited Trefor at his residential home. He looked and sounded well and looked immaculate  at nearly 99 in a clean shirt and dressing gown 

My hoodie had great globs of moisturiser down the front of it 

Cries for mom

 

Opposite the cottage is the Church Field. 

It was gifted to the Church as an overspill of the graveyard, but as the Church is closed and the county no longer extends graveyards, I am sure at some stage the land will be sold.

Presently an old school friend has ponies grazing there. 

Beyond the field are the livery stable fields. 

The stables are grazing a gaggle of young cows at the moment, all of whom have recently left their mothers.

The noise of their calls for their mothers is almost chilling at times, especially in the middle of the night.

They started a few days ago, around 1 am in the morning. 

One caller bellowing in the dark followed by another and another.

Roger woke from downstairs and raced first to me and then to the window seat, scanning for where the noise was coming from. He was joined by Albert and before long we were all awake listening.

There is something incredibly sad when the young call for their mothers, especially at night when the cries are lost in the dark and the wind

They are still calling this morning.

Anyway today, I’ve decided will be a productive day. I’ve bought some printer ink and will be printing out the first of the TCA certificates to send out to the villagers who have sponsored windows in the hall. 

Each person will have a thank you letter, a certificate naming their sponsored love one and a map detailing which pane of glass is theirs. I have also purchased some large rigid enveloped so that the certificates aren't bent. 

The kitchen looks like a mini production line.

It’s college later tonight too, we are being filmed using our counselling skills ! 

Note to self , find a clean T shirt. And remember the camera puts on ten pounds.

It’s weigh day today and I’ve lost nothing more this week , which was to be expected as I’ve had dinner and tea out twice last week. I’m not disheartened at all, I will catch up next week.

The printer is clattering out certificates like a good un

And above the noise and activity in the kitchen,

I can still hear the bellows of the calves from beyond the pony field.

Explain

 Today’s mood stemmed from a text I received from my friend Faisal who left for South Africa this morning

It was polite as Faisal always is and the message thanked me for my “friendship” and “ guidance” and “patience”.

I’m not known for my patience, that comment surprised me. 

Faisal is gay, but apart from turning up at our gay book club a few months ago ,never  really admitted he was to my face, having said that  he spent much of our conversations talking about and asking questions of my gayness. Something I let him do because it was obvious  easier for him to do so. 

We only met four times

He has now left the uk for an asexual if not “straight” lifestyle in rural South Africa with his parents and siblings . 

He is expecting an “ organised “ marriage too at some stage, and. made a point of telling me that marriages were more organised than arranged in his family

I missed the difference. 

He’s in his forties, and his family have reeled him back home again 

And as I hugged him goodbye I kissed him on the cheek and felt incredibly , incredibly sad I didn’t have him here for longer

Still Life/ Busy Life?

A still life , if ever I saw one

I’m waiting in my second favourite cafe in colwyn bay waiting to meet a friend

They are running late, 

I’m drinking coffee listening to my phone songs, and have left the dogs exhausted on the reading chair after their morning walk

I’m on holiday this week, though I have a study session to go to at work this afternoon and it’s college tomorrow. ( I passed my second assignment btw which is nice)

In between I’m meeting an old school friend for lunch, there’s Gay book club too and a Liverpool trip to see the oddly named A Thong For Europe with Colin, a comedy play about Eurovision. 

I’m catching up with old Trevor too at his new nursing home, going to the TCA ‘s sub committee meeting, sending out the window certificates and going to see a Spanish horror film Pearl which has a very limited run over here.

I feel oddly melancholic today, which is irritating. 

But it is what it is 

If my mood was musical this is what it would be

I’ve ordered more coffee and I can just now see my friend ambling along towards the cafe without a care in the world.

Heyho

The Night Of The 12th

 

I went to Chester this afternoon after exhausting the dogs on another long walk in Bishop’s Wood

I got there around 6pm and treated myself to pad Thai noodles at the Chester Market before cinema at the Storyhouse with friend Faisal , a day before he leaves for South Africa .

We went to see The Night Of The 12th an intelligent and unnerving version of a true crime case set in France where a country teenage girl Clara was burnt to death by an unknown attacker.

The case is taken over by new police chief Yohan (Bastien Bouillion ) who is an odd, intense character who finds verbal support somewhat of a challenge . His second in command Marceau ( Bouli Lanners) is a burnt out, about to be divorced, cop in so need of counselling support from his boss so things are not looking good as many suspects are unearthed but no progress is made with arrests .

The film is a fascinating journey looking at an in-depth , forensic but intimately unsuccessful investigation    and it explores the terrible toll a murder investigation actually has on its human participants , namely the police team involved, especially as no result is actually found.

Bouillan and Lanners

It’s a long story but I gave Faisal a chased kiss on the cheek  goodbye 

at the end of the evening 

So sad

Mindful

 I was never one for houseplants.

True, I have an aspidistra who is at least 40 years old and a flowering cactus almost that age , but these two are surviving more from luck than from design. 

Since lockdown I have collected houseplants and the best bit of advice I have had looking after them came from the postman, who one day complemented me on my collection.

When there’s a warmish rainstorm , put all of your plants outside for a long shower

It’s labour intensive , but it doesn’t half clean and nurture them

So that’s what I have done this morning. Set the plants in the rain and then returned them one by one when they were wet and really green again.

I know repetitive and somehow quite mindful.

This respective, mindless behaviour is a useful mechanism to employ when stress is in your life. I’ve always used it at work when things got too much to handle. I’ve gone to the drugs room to clean the drugs trays or move the laundry around or clean the dressing trolleys.

Washing dishes is a mindful chore too

It’s done with the above view of plants and flying gull and of pretty crockery and moving the plates and the knives from hot water to cold rinse let’s your mind unwind and slow down. 

My grandmother hated ironing clothes, she said that it “ slowed down the brain” 

Now it’s therapy