Committee

 

The Trelawnyd Community Association Memorial Hall sub committee ( you try saying that after a large gin)  is an eclectic group of village folk, intent on keeping our hall open and functioning in this expensive , post covid, financially compromised world 

In addition to the 2 usual Caucasian retired men ( every committee has them and they no doubt bring with them vital experience and know how) we have 2 bright working mums, an lady entrepreneur with a Joan Rivers sense of humour. A gentle hearted farmer, the glamorous velvet voiced Linda and her flared pants , and me and Bunty supporting and being the village gay population. 

I know it sound like a film cast but it kinda works. The main group is an eclectic mix too, a cheerful Welsh    Mom, an ex police inspector with a shrewd eye, an all rounder book illustrator, I could go on.

Last night we sorted out another list of ideas to raise funds for the hall , old Men’s Yoga, a casino night, film nights, bingo, more table top sales, a fashion show, a bespoke choir concert, badminton, history lectures and a grand Christmas food festival !!! And a even a 🌈 pride night out next year ( Bunty asked me if I was out at work for that one) 

Today I’m getting ready for my few days in Venice starting tomorrow

I suspect the hat will be left at home 

 

Walking In The Dark

 

A couple of years ago, I had a few dates with a guy which sort of petered out. 

We were not suited, and had no chemistry , but he was a nice guy and I’m sure that the feelings were mutual, so I was surprised that he messaged me asking to go out for coffee.

It’s transpires he has oesophageal cancer, a best friend in need of hospice care and a mum in a nursing home. 

Add to this the Herculean task of advocating himself in a post covid oncology fuck up nhs and no one at home to help  and it’s easy to see how difficult things are for him.

I sat and listened

That’s all I could do.

After he had left, I sat at the beach cafe, we had met in, and watched the sea.

I felt odd.

And thankful .

It’s never failed to surprise me, just how people cope with adversity. 

Most, in my experience do so blindly 

It’s a case of one short step in front of another.

Hands outstretched as if you were blind.

Hoping for the best 

Holiday chic

 

I bought this hat today. 

It’s for Venice.

I wanted a yellow one but I found only one and it looked like a sou’wester 

Not the “ look” I was going for

I was hoping for cute, middle aged gay-geek

My friend Ian suggested I looked like a child molester

Which was kind.

I asked him for another suggestion 

“A fat fisherman?” Was the answer

I gave up soon after.

The hat came today,and I FaceTimed Ian again

“ How do I look now?”

He paused

“ Like Dale from the Walking Dead” he said finally

I give up

Schoolgirl

 It’s very humid, the storms haven’t cleared the air and bulldog walks were cut short as Dorothy struggled with her breath.

I took them down to the stream which leads to the waterfalls and she dangled her nipples into the water, which calmed everything down nicely.

floppy Haired jogger was out again today which was a bonus. 

He’s a six foot , dark haired Adonis with hairy legs and a killer smile.

We are all charmed by him as he stops to rub each dog in turn,

He has a deep singer’s voice and

I simper like a schoolgirl 

Gawd I annoy myself sometimes…

Lol

Sublet

 Israel isn’t well known for gay romantic comedies, so the Israeli/ American film Sublet is a rarity indeed.

It’s an interesting spring/autumn sort of story about middle aged American writer Michael ( John Benjamin Hickey) and his relationship with twenty something film student Tomer ( Niv Nissim) as the two sublet an apartment in Tel Aviv, with the obvious class of cultures, experiences and philosophies.

Insightful, complicated and with the usual yin/yang between youth and older age, it’s a moving and rather charming film 

The rain from last night has made everything seem more humid and certainly cooler. For some reason Roger had wandered around the cottage and had collected 5 shoes overnight which he placed carefully into his crate.

I’m making turkey meatballs, half I will have with mango salad tonight and the other half in a passata sauce with a bit of spaghetti for lunch tomorrow.

Have a good Sunday

Enjoy this video

 

Keyboard Warriors

It’s still very warm and dry.

The field grass is tinged with yellow and the roses in the front garden are fully in bloom.

Around six  we had the threat of a storm  but nothing moved past the rumble of thunder until almost seven when it rained without lightening. 

The thunder grumbled on until almost 8pm

I’m watching Barry Manilow at the BBC 

I’m doing another overtime shift tomorrow afternoon.

All monies are going to my counselling fund.

I’d like to think that blogger is frequented by older internet users.

People that have learned to play nice for the most part.

As we all know that’s not always the case. 

Earlier someone complained there were too many videos posted on Going Gently …fair point , but felt the need to add a petulant and negative so I didn’t watch any

Most bloggers I have physically met have proved to be delightful characters. Indeed only a couple of weeks ago, I met up with Libby and had a lovely time, over a gin and tonic, mutually shared information from the written word expanded into the verbal where it becomes real and tactile.

I’ve had friendships with bloggers which  have proved disappointing and I’m now a firm believer that much of this kind of phenomenon is an example of Over familiarity breeds contempt .

Blog friends often turn up daily, feel that they know you and in extreme cases feel that they can say anything to you that in real life they would never say to the face of an enemy let alone a friend.

A little while ago a commentator informed me that I disgusted them. Then they used personal insults to support a view they neither had personal  experience of  or practical facts about. 

It’s a common phenomenon seen with online interactions , akin to road rage.

Another blog follower once referred to me in a comment with such venom and rudeness that I was shocked to my core. At 60 I think I’ve had a good 55 years experience of making friends and during that time had never been spoken to in such a way. 

I cut all contact there and then.

I would not let my best friends talk to me like that, let alone someone who had never met me

Without the nuances, parameters and reality of physically meeting up, proper friendships on line I feel are rare.

Which is sad, as is the bile which is unleashed from faceless and angry people 

Keyboard warriors 

Fuck em

Halle Bailey - 'Part Of Your World'

It has amused me that this iconic scene has been hijacked by hundreds of women and gay men and been reenacted all over the world.

 

All great fun 

I’m hydrating at home today. It’s hot here and we’ve not seen rain in weeks.

The lawn is started to yellow in the sun and I got dehydrated yesterday which allowed my bladder to play up. 

An extra antibiotic and fluids by the bucketload have almost sorted me out, but I’ve had to cancel lunch with my friend Colin in Chester this afternoon which is a bummer. 

We are off to Venice in just under a week.

The neighbour popped in to give me some of her sweet peas which I’ve put in my fox vase 

Fatty and Big Guy

 When you walk dogs, your mind wanders.

I never chatter to them like some people do. 

We walk in silence 

Talking is only for brief orders 

Dogs know where they are if things are kept simple.

I thought about Fatty this morning.

Fatty was the hero in one of my Grandmother’s stories and the only story which featured her as a very young woman. At 16 she worked in a warehouse in Liverpool which stored animal feed and somehow had become isolated on one of the upper floors when there was a blackout.

My grandmother loved this story as it had every element of suspense . 

A young girl trapped in a dark factory, 

Rats running along the floor over her feet and an open winch door five stories above the street only inches away. 

But my grandmother added her usual comic flourish and that was her manager Fatty who came to her rescue after being called time and time again and who kept replying by shouting “ I’m coming !  fatty’s coming! “ 

As a child I would be crying with laughter when Fatty came to her rescue 

It was a good story, and one always well told and I was glad I remembered it this morning.

Sometimes , all it takes is a short phrase or a few words to wizz you back to a moment when you were important in a stranger’s life. 

Moments like these can be rare.

But they flash forward into consciousness like miniature shoals of fish do when they swim past you in the sea. 

I was drinking coffee in The Flat White Cafe with a friend the other day when a family of a dad and two older kids walked in to find seats. The dad had a kind face and he looked at me and immediately smiled 

“ Hello Big Guy” he said warmly and suddenly his hands were on my shoulders patting me like a long lost relative 

“Big guy “told me the lost context and I suddenly knew who he was.

He was the husband of a patient I nursed four years ago and “ Big Guy “ was how they always referred to me when we met over drugs, and district nurse visits and talks about symptoms and needs and worries.

We chatted briefly. 

Polite hellos and updates on the kids and him followed  and minutes later they were sat at their own table ordering cakes and tea whilst I ate mine. 

And twenty or so minutes later my friend and I stood to go

As we did , I waved a slightly awkward goodbye to the man and his family , all of whom waved back

The husband nodded his head and mouthed a silent  “Thank you” as I turned to leave

And I tipped my chin in receipt 

I’ve lost another 2 lbs this week, 

It’s a slow work in progress

But I still feel a bit of a big guy

Still a bit of a fatty

Wrap

Lazy morning

Coffee, breakfast and online newspaper .

I’m doing an extra overtime shift later at work

I can recommend this low calorie breakfast wrap

 Left over sushi rice and beans flavoured with rice wine

Two large table spoons of 0% yogurt,

Mix with one avocado 

Season with lemon juice, salt and pepper 

Add fresh coriander

Wrap in low calorie tortilla wrap

Wash Day

 It’s nearly 2.30 pm 

Time for writing and then a siesta 

I’ve been on the go since 8 am

Today’s blog is a chatty one, 

Nothing heavy, emotional or arch,

Just observations of a day of jobs.

First chore was dog showering.

This is the most onerous 

For it entails a certain amount of bulldog wrestling.

Now no matter how nonchalant I act Dorothy always knows what’s coming and for a solid and heavy bitch she can hide herself in the most surprising of places. This morning she managed to get into the lowest shelf of the bedroom bookshelf and I was sure she was holding her breath as I scanned the room for her. 

Dorothy hates showers.

Now that’s not entirely true as she hates getting wet and being washed but when I have to get the Fanny cloth out to give her tuppence the once over, she gently warms to the theme of the experience and embraces it totally. 

It’s just the thought of the shower she detests.

Now the Welsh love a hot shower. They would have one everyday if I left the shower door open. Their only negative is afterwards both will career around the cottage like loons, wetting bedclothes and furnishings in their wakes.

Today I didn’t mind as all the washing was done. Bedspreads, duvet cases, pillowcases and towels. All washed and hung on bushes, walls and the field gate to dry.

The ancient floorboards in my bedroom were swept and washed and left to dry, and I washed the carpet in the living room free of wet paw prints and doggy smells.

Underwear hung on the garden chairs

I cook linguine for lunch with a tiny bit of olive oil and Parmesan and drank tea as the mokka pot is soaking in the sink.

Then I water the patio planters by hand ( there are 47) and then the front garden basket and pots and lay the spare bed duvet on the front lawn to dry.

The cottage smells of detergent and honeysuckle 

The honeysuckle flowers have bloomed overnight around the front door 

And smell glorious .

Time for a kip in the armchair.
 

The Future and another “Happy Birthday”

 

I wrote the previous blog whilst in the library in college.

It’s boring as it is bland.

I picked the dogs up from a friend in Craig Y Don, who had been watched them and we drove into Conwy

Where I had to ask a stranger to hold the dogs when I went into the famous Edward’s Butchers for a chilli Scotch egg. 

In the end I bought a black pudding scotch egg too, and we sat on the quayside and shared them together

Bloody lovely they were too.

I went to Conwy for a think.

From September things will be rather different 

More academia, more need for personal discipline, and some serious self reflection 

Between then and now I have Venice, Barcelona and Rome to enjoy then it’s knuckle down and work

Funny how things can change 

Five years ago, I had retired and was planning to leave the village

Now I’m embarking on a new career and a new direction, a journey which is scary and exciting all mixed together and I’m part of village life more than I’ve ever been.

We sat in a line on a bench. Dorothy to my left, the Welsh to my right.

I kept the chilli scotch egg for myself , but the dogs loved their third each portion with a small bite taken out for me. 

It’s four of us against the world now

And sharing a scotch egg is a luxury only we know how beautiful

We were all late back home after a full tiring day. So much so Dorothy refused to leave the back seat and had to be carried into the cottage. 

I missed choir 

Which was unfortunate

But this video was sent to me by Hattie 

Our choir’s tradition of celebrating everyone’s birthday 

It moved me greatly 

And perfectly ended the day 

Interview

 Today’s small treat was an iced latte.

I bought it after going for my level four counselling interview.

I try to get myself one small treat a day.

We also had a chance to talk to a group of the level 4 trainee counsellors without the tutors being there which was illuminating . My application is in and so are my references . So it’s fingers crossed

I’ll start in September .

Dandy’s Flag and Le Otto Montagne

 

I think I’ve told you before that the city of Chester is located a stones throw over the Welsh border into England. It is the city I did my psychiatric nurse training in and is now one I visit often for film, theatre, book club and coffee. 

For ages now I have always been impressed with a giant Ukrainian flag flying high over Dandy’s landscaping Business on the Welsh side of the border. The flag is immense, some  45 feet by 25 feet and I’ve always wondered just why the company has chosen to fly such a huge flag.

Now apparently the yard used to fly a normal sized Welsh dragon flag,but changed it to a similar sized Ukrainian flag at the start of the war, and some small minded Welsh nationalist complained, and questioned just why a Welsh business should support a country so many hundreds of miles away .

Dandy’s replied with the towering flag.

I loved this simple yet effective statement of support and of rejection of blind nationalism.

This afternoon I went to see Le Otto Montagne ( The Eight Mountains) 

A slow, beautifully paced Italian film chronically four decades of friendship between Bruno ( Alesandro Borghi) and Pietro (Luca Marinelli), this film takes its time examining the complexities of male relationships and underlines how difficult it is for men to verbalise their feelings and rationalise their thoughts and motivations . 

The piece has unfairly been termed a straight Brokeback Mountain , which is lazy, as this film is a nuanced , incredibly sad, story of an intense relationship forged from loneliness and need. 

Surprise

 I had to look surprised when at the family barbecue I was presented with a “surprise “ birthday cake 

Strange Things

 It’s a lazy blog today thanks to Ali who requested I share more of my odd bits so to speak.

It’s a beautiful day and the garden and planters need watering .

The shooting range in nearby Trelogan sounds busy but the putput of the shotguns are muffled by the circle of hills to the west and are not too invasive.

I’m going to a family barbecue later which will be lovely 

My wolf and Badge salt and pepper shakers standing guard over my homemade letter rack

My gargoyle of course

My obese camel 

The first thing I made in pottery my horse

My little homage to Gormley’s terracotta crowd

Blogger Gayle’s sketch on wrapping paper framed

My bathroom puffin

My 2£ tetradactyl plate

My 5£ plastic toucan 

Bearded man with a big cock

My carved eagle, a gift from villager Colin Endres before he died

Albert The Dinosaur

I saw my birthday dinosaur on Facebook ( link below)

https://www.facebook.com/judypembertonceramics

And he intrigued me so much , that I had to buy him.

Judy who made him, kindly sold me him at friends rates as she likes Going Gently

I was asked if I would post more photos of him 

So here he is

I have several such pieces hidden away in plants and in corners, the gargoyle in the fireplace, my fat naked man looking gloriously buff on my desk, my homemade camel with the enormous hump in my window.

Nu’s homemade daisy fruit bowl on my bedroom drawers, my stone family figures on the kitchen art wall

Funny what pleases eh? 

Cottage Sun

 

My sister Ann gave me a plant pot stand for my birthday so , today as it’s sunny, I have been playing around with it as well as filling the hanging baskets with delicate pink annuals, which replace the pinks underneath the honeysuckle 

It’s Mindful work which I’m good at treating myself in between with glasses of iced coffee laced with agave nectar.

The cottage shines in the sun

It kind of comes alive and seems even to breath with its windows open and a breeze wandering the rooms from the south west.

The dogs mooch into the back garden to lie in the sun and I play ludovico Einsudi and Christopher Beck’s Under The Tuscan Sun as I plant up and water in.

I found myself scanning the shaded bit of wall for Albert too

Chic Eleanor called around this afternoon, with a bunch of peonies, she stayed for coffee

I’m working tomorrow as a favour for a colleague 

So I will be mindful and quiet for the rest of today.

Thanks to everyone for my best wishes yesterday 

They were gratefully received 

61

 I wrote a whole post this morning and read it then binned it.

Suffice to say I feel a little odd

61….

Yes just a little odd. 

Shortly I’m going to wash my face, put on a clean new shirt and my lovely and lurid green shoes and will meet a friend for breakfast at Bryn Williams. 

Early evening I’m going to see the Finnish action film Sisu which is a real horror fest by all accounts.

I have opened a few gifts this morning (my nephew sent me a new pencil case for college in September which was lovely) and I will fit in a cry this afternoon, birthdays get you like that sometimes

Thank you for your kind wishes, cards and messages .I’m very lucky to have so many, and I appreciate each and every one….

Look at the photo carefully and you will see Dorothy asleep with a tea towel in her mouth

I had used it to wipe up some sweet Korean dipping sauce and she’s been sucking the drips

Ps 

Thanks to an anonymous friend a pair of Albert Socks 

My birthday gift to myself my own red footed dinosaur sculpture

Jog On

I’m going into work later on overtime

So the Mocca pot is on and it’s chill morning time.

I’ve opened birthday cards which have arrived a day early ( I’m not one for saving them for the actual day) and I’ve had a row with a hiker who complained that Roger had frightened her when she went to pat Dorothy on the head.

So it’s not been that chilled really…

Now before I am lectured by some psychobabble amateur about having an anger problem, I will assure you that I do not, but like many people in their sixties, I won’t put up with bad or stupid behaviour 

The woman in question had obviously seen Dorothy dozing and had made a fuss, so true to form Dorothy had galloped over to the wall in the hope of a face rub or even better something edible. As that was going on , Roger gave his usual protective bark and bounced up next to his sister in order to see what was appertaining .

The woman shrieked and jumped back, so Roger barked even more. 

and that’s when I walked out to intervene. 

“ He’s a bit vicious “ the woman said pointing to the still bouncing Roger 

“He nearly bit me” she called out as her fellow hikers stopped next to her.

“Rubbish” I said and the woman puffed herself up, ready for an indignant disagreement

“Don’t try to pet dogs you don’t know” I told her

The woman glared at me and started to huff and puff

Which I dismissed with a Curt “ Jog On “ 

A phrase I like almost as much as  “Cheap Shoes”

Jog On covers more bases me thinks.

I’m 61 tomorrow….bloody hell John 

JOG ON !!!

.

Radishes at Choir

 

Only at a Welsh Country Choir

I walked in after nearly a year away and was presented with a handful of radishes from Alto Diane fresh from her garden. 

Like all supportive groups , It took off roughly where I left it.

Gentleman Farmer nodded brusquely and whispered “ You’re back then”which was sweet and Heulwen , Di and Claire gave me a big hug. 

Jamie and his 1940s RAF moustache welcomed me back too, but quietly as I left. 

And clutching my song sheets, radishes and water bottle I felt just a little emotional as I turned for home