Evening The Same Day

 

The sun shines on the sycamore in the corner of the Churchyard with a certain glow at dusk.

It reminds me of the trees that border the Royal Botanical Gardens and the Sydney Opera House 

The ones that are filled with chattering flying foxes at Dusk

The sycamore is devoid of wildlife but the glow on its bark is the same as the one I remember from Oz.

I love this part of the day 

My sister had visited when I was at work and had filled more terracotta plants with geranium, pinks and annual colourfuls. All gifts for my birthday . 

The planters look lovely .

I watered them all and my existing planters in the front garden , the ones filled with hydrangeas, hostas and mock orange. 

It a relaxing pastime after working all day. 

I had baby oak trees in the car , a gift from a girl at work and I watered them too. I will plant them in a suitable place in the village .

It’s almost quarter past nine and I’m disappointed that the bats are not out yet, but that fox is barking again

And the dogs are all straining on the back of the trendy couch in the vain hope of seeing something

The Morning After the night before

 

6 am returned too quickly

Not even the dogs wanted to get up.

A hot shower

Lots of Clinique Happy

A strong flavoursome MacDonald’s coffee

I wanted to finish The Passengers by Will Ashon today

I haven’t time to précis it

But have a look , it’s intriguing ….totally intriguing

No bats or foxes in the lane this morning

Just You

I got to sit down late  tonight

It’s was  a long day

A mixture of a friends’s personal problems kept me busy by phone  and the need to have fresh air after a day shift kept me going still

At 10 pm I was walking the dogs down the lane and it was lovely to see that the bats are back , flitting like mini devil  shadows.under the one lane lamp 

Roger had never seen bats before and he barked quietly at them , not sure that barking was allowed

It is warm tonight too   and there was  no moon 

A fox was screaming  too and the dogs were on point quietly  listening ….spring/summer fox calls are usually ones in response to territory rather than romance ( these are in winter) and dogs were frightened by their alien make up.

Hey ho ……I had no one to tell of such treasures tonight 

Just you

Choir

I missed joining the other members of the TCA at the pub yesterday after we tidied the hall.

I went home, fed the dogs and sat for a moment on the kitchen reading chair 

And woke up almost two hours later, with an ear ache and with dribble down my new summer shirt

It was a shame as my fellow villagers are a nice bunch. 

Instead I tidied the cottage, and did washing and cleaned the spaces now free of clutter. 

And suddenly missed Albert when I collected cat food in a carrier bag to give a neighbour who has a cat. 

Cats are always the supporting actors to a home, and seldom a lead. 

I missed seeing his shadow , flitting briefly in a doorway 

Or still on the bedroom window chair

I sipped my bucket of coffee this morning after making a chicken salad with noodles . 

It’s 6.20 am ish and I have fifteen minutes before I leave for work 

So its short blog written in a sunny dawn

I check my Filofax diary for the week ahead 

I’m working all day on the bank holiday and have agreed on overtime Wednesday afternoon…it’s my birthday on Thursday and on Friday I’m at the theatre with a friend oh and on Tuesday I finally return to choir.

It’s a lovely thought to be returning at last.

Singing stops sadness in its tracks 

In its tracks 

Hey ho

Attic Sale

 I had to laugh.

Last night while I was waiting for the youth club to depart the hall

I head a slightly exasperated volunteer called out

“ Amy, don’t put that much toilet roll down the toilets again please “

I couldn’t  supervise the youth club if they paid me.

Anyhow it was the attic sale today and thing were quiet given the glorious weather. 

My sister made 85£ on her quality stall. I made considerably lesson mine but sorted a profit out nevertheless. It was therapy too as everything I had brought was taken to the charity shop afterwards.

Nothing of mine came home with me.

I saw a lot of faces not caught up with in a while The Gop Farm Matriarchs, Boffin Cameron’s mum, Moterbike Jean, and others, and was home by 2 pm in time to water the plants Janet had planted up for my birthday and wake the dogs up for dinner.

I buried Albert in my old field.

Right in the corner by the pig pen.

In the spot he adored murdering rabbits in.

Green Shoes

 Apologies for deleting the blog and its more balanced reader comments , but I’ve just got home to briefly witness the bunfight which ensued earlier.

What a palaver ….

Anyhow I took my painkillers and washed my face and went to Liverpool 

Nu is over there seeing family and she squeezed me in for lunch at Mowgli 

The best medicine ever.

I even did some shopping, buying a few lurid shirts for my holiday and these great shoes

Thank you for your kind comments about Albert

He’s buried in a shady corner of the field 

Fate

 I had pain in my ear and down my jaw all yesterday. Last night the pain was suddenly  so severe I rang out of hours and by mid evening I was collecting antibiotics and painkillers for a suspected tooth abscess 

I went to bed early and woke up feeling as though Shelley Winters had sat on my head all night

I took more antibiotics and painkillers and by ten was starting to feel a little more human but still quite nauseous 

I think fate wanted me to be home today for when I sat at the kitchen table looking at a cup of tea, I heard coughing from outside .

It was Albert  and he was being sick . 

His damaged leg stuck out at an odd angle and looked suddenly useless. 

He looked very unwell. 

I scooped him up and I cradled him on my knee ( something I have never done before) and we sat in the garden as the dogs sniffed at his black fur until they grew bored and dropped one by one to the floor.

Albert died soon after

As Roger gleefully got up and chased a bumble bee up and down the gravel path in the sun like a loon.

Meet Up

 I’m meeting one of my fellow bloggers . 

It’s Libby and she’s on holiday in Llandudno .

We are meeting at Osborn House , the boutique hotel/ restaurant where I was married. 

It’s ok, I’ve been once before and that visit didn’t trigger any sentimental reactions . 

Now I don’t go out of my way to meet my fellow bloggers. Blog friendships are odd and often just one sided as perhaps they know all about the you, well the you want them to know and you often don’t them as much. 

Having said this , all of the bloggers or followers I have met have been delightful characters,  David Travel Penguin , Steve ShadowLight, Ilona Meanqueen, Diane and Gary who came to my biggest Open Allotment days are just a few that spring to mind and I have around five or six others that I just know I would get along with very well if they turned up in Trelawnyd with a few beers and a scotch egg or two .

There are also a couple I’d dearly like to meet over a glass of wine and a romantic meal but that would be telling lol

Today’s cooking

Spiced Korean pork, wrapped in cabbage leaves and homemade mini pork and herb patties

 

Laburnum and Marina

 Mrs Trellis was more chatty today. She was hurrying because she’d left stew simmering but stopped long enough to call “ Your Laburnum is glorious “ over her privet.

I went to see it 

Indeed it does look glorious 

This afternoon I drove to Conwy Marina to meet my college friends for dinner. I’ve never been to the marina before and it was as glorious as my laburnum. 

Coco

People can be rather sniffy about animated films, but I think the above clip clearly shows what little works of art they can be.

Last night I watched Coco the Disney/Pixar Mexican themed romp set on the festival Night of the Dead and it’s evident now that casting now in all films is country appropriate .

To me this doesn’t  quite go far enough as I think the film could have been made in Spanish with subtitles but America just doesn’t do subtitles .

Albert And Winnie

On the back of yesterday’s post 

I wanted to remind and share this photo of Albert and Winnie

Taken six years ago now

Albert absolutely adored this fat old benign creature 

With a passion 

They would often lie together on the lounge floor , with Albert cradling her face with sheathed paws

And with her putting up with the attention with grace and alacrity 

His affection was all consuming and totally unexplained 

After she died( playing with a silly rubber chicken )

He sat between her fat old paws on the kitchen floor 

And didn’t move until Sailor John from next door and I removed her body

two hours later 

 

Pond

 Yesterday Village Leader Helen, asked for some help in auditing the wildlife at the pond. Fourteen of us turned up , just enough to scare most of anything brave enough to show its face, but I was happy to grab the net on a stick first and revisit those childhood memories of playing in water.

It was rather fun identifying the monsters of the deep.

I enjoyed it so much that I returned to the pond on my own this morning to continue to root around like a fat old Gerald Durrell ,

And I saw meadow brown butterflies, a large white butterfly. Black beetles, ponds. Ayers, water slaters, and a whirligig beetle. 

Beers and storytelling followed the initial audit

The Last Walk Of The Day

For the very first time in weeks now, Albert followed us on our last walk of the day.

It’s been a nice day all told, ( I will tell you about the Pond Audit tomorrow) and I wanted to get home ready for The Archers so a little early I led the dogs down the lane for a mooch. 

It was Dorothy that stopped, lifting her head to stare up back at the cottage corner , and around the corner came Albert. He was slow, very slow, and noticeably thinner than he was,  his characteristic limp also much evident, but down the lane he came, silently rubbing heads with each dog in turn as he slowly lapped us.

He’s not long for this Earth, I know

But seeing him gamely following us tonight, and his weary return home five minutes later than us, gave me a proud lump in my throat 

 

Nu’s Birthday

This photo was taken exactly five years ago.

Nuala’s birthday in Kenmare in Ireland 

I was at my lowest ebb ever then and she kept my head above water as best friends always do 

Happy Birthday Nu 

I love you so much 

After Elias

 In the end I couldn't change our Les Miserables tickets on line. so had to speak to a real human being at the Sondheim theatre box office called Toby

He was dreadfully sweet and told me that I was only one of hundreds of theatre goers who he will be talking to today. The strikes have reduced the audiences by half for some nights, he told me and my sob story was just one of many. 

" We were just getting back on our feet too" he chirped sadly

I've rebooked for October

I didn't get much sleep yesterday. The weather was lovely and everyone seemed out and about. Animal Helper Pat stopped for ages for a chat. she's off with family cruising around the Med soon, which sounds delightful. and has been busy with her WI and Church activities. I reminded her of the bring and by sale next Saturday but she already has a plant sale planned

she looked well.

Mrs Trellis stopped next sans bobble hat. she seemed more  preoccupied with her own thoughts than usual and didn't stop long. As didn't Islwyn who called the dogs in turn for a cuddle at the garden wall.

I fell asleep at the kitchen table with my forehead on my arms, only walking a  short while later feeling like the Wreck of the Hesperus

Tomorrow ( now today) I will sleep in after a dog walk then I will venture over to Chester to meet an old friend Nigel for a late lunch and a chat.

This week, at Gay Book Club  I had a small row with cis gay man I will call Martin

Like me he is a powerful character who knows his own mind.

he is young, perhaps 25 and is arch to the point of rudeness and often will argue a point for the sake of arguing. 

He owns his own clothing business.

 

we were reviewing the rather moving novel After Elias by Eddy Boudal Tan which is about a gay fiancé of a dead pilot who has to piece together a complicated aftermath of a plane crash which killed his husband to be and 300 passengers, when Martin dismissed one of the women's comments of how she was moved to tears by its opening chapter as sentimental and indulgent she bit back and a somewhat barbed argument ensued.

when I reminded Martin of the ground rules of respect set out in the groups' first meeting he called me a "Gay Old Social worker" with a laugh

which shut me up, amid the tut tuts of some of the others

At coffee and biscuit time the only older guy in the group came up and asked me why I hadn't bitten back and I told him I just couldn't be arsed, which was true

but a small part of me, 

a tiny little gay twat of me,

would have liked to slapped him so hard in the back of the head that his eyes popped out

The River Dee in Chester this afternoon

We sat and ate ice cream like two middle aged gays 

Strikes

 

I think I’ve generally been sympathetic to the rail strike, even though it has affected me several times during sojourns to the capital and beyond. 

Today I am more than just pissed off with the RNT union leader Mick Lynch for adding one more strike day to the days already earmarked at the end of May and early June for strike action .Now he has effectively cancelled our Les Miserables trip planned on June 1st.

Now I can claim back the rail tickets for nothing and move the theatre tickets for a small fee, but we’ve lost our booking for the hotel, which was a difficult book anyway as cheaper hotel rooms in the capital early June were just not to be had.

I’ve booked them via credit card so may be able to get my money back …..but that’s not the point.

I get to go to London a lot, my sister much less so. 

And the one time she gets to have a treat 

It’s bloody cancelled

Bishop’s Flower

 

The alliums are flowering in the garden and look lovely despite not fully open this morning. I cut Centaurea Montana ( Mountain Cornflower) for the kitchen and filled the gaps with Ammi Majus ( Bishop’s Flower) and blue aquilegia picked from the lane borders.

Cut flowers, like owning  a cat, make a house a real home I always think

I’ve always thought so and I wonder where I learnt that from?

I’m physically back to normal today but will listen to my body and will sleep most of the afternoon before shift. The day before night shift ,is a literal day of rest for me. Pottering and flower cutting, that’s my therapy, and dozing alongside the coconut smelling Dorothy 

I’ve made chicken noodles with a low fat satay sauce for supper and an egg mango salad for lunch, and have watered the planters and written a considered message to a friend whose relationship has sadly faltered .

I’ve nothing big to share today.

No belly laughs or sad stories.

Nothing interesting to report in a world of sad news

Just a quiet day in a Welsh village

With the sound of blackbirds softening the sound of the noisy neighbour sawing wood in his workshop

Best line of the night

Dinnerladies 1999

            "We've all got problems, I lost 8 tropical fish in a power cut last week “
 

A Coconut Smelling Bulldog

 My bladder is playing up today. It does this from time to time and as it was with Paul Edgecombe from The Green Mile I’ve been plagued by cramps and pain that arrives and leaves like lightening .

I’m not moving too far from home today. 

I’ve completed the jobs I mentioned yesterday including a somewhat colourful wrestling match with Dorothy in the shower.

She now smells of coconut.

My final job was to measure and mark my front gate.

Village Leader Ian, who has lived down the lane for years admitted that he has been bugged by my gate for most of that time. 

It used to be the gate to my pig pen and before that was a gate to one of the 1920’s  Council houses in Erw Wen and it’s never properly fitted my narrow path and it’s bother Ian’s neat mind so much he’s offered to have his own blacksmith to reduce its size.

How kind is that? 

It’s a warm day , and I’ve hung washing on the back garden wall and bushes for the sun to dry and I’ve dozed on the couch with the lounge windows wide whilst cuddling a cushion. 

Albert has walked down the stairs like an old man and yowled loudly for something to eat.  

Garlic

 Does anyone else feel as though they are on catch up all of the time?

At times I can be almost overwhelmed by the size my to do list

And my life is nothing special 

Today I’ve taken the dogs out for a long walk, picked wild garlic flowers which resemble little fireworks of white and ordered logs and shopped. 

I’ve also called around to  Meirion Jones’ neat little bungalow to sweet talk him into being our flower Judge this year. He has the best garden in the village.

The flower show returns to Trelawnyd on August 5 th 

So back to today

It’s just past 10 am and I have a workbook for university to finish and share with my tutor on line. That has to be completed this afternoon.

I have certificates to sort for the Hall window sponsorship, they need printing out, hand finishing and posting

There are Carpets to clean after Albert’s nocturnal bladder emptying 

Dorothy to shower ( gawd don’t ask why all I will say that it rhymes with Manny) and it’s bugging me that my new outside solar lights haven’t had their little paper lanterns slipped over their cages.

The floor needs mopping, the chimney sweep needs re booking and I need to sort my repeat prescription for antibiotics out with the pharmacy. 

Oh and I got to sort out more vendors and posters for the vintage table stop sale a week on Saturday .

My to do list is written and I think I need another bucket of coffee