Church Asides
I walked the older dogs around the Churchyard this afternoon.
Mary had already had her robust walk along the beach promenade so stayed at home with the Prof.
He was making pea and ham soup from scratch.
We've had peas soaking in the kitchen for days!
As we wandered up the Church path, St Michael's door burst open revealing the vicar in his full regalia, the morning service had just finished. George galloped up to him barking loudly.
" He's never seen a man in a frock before" I informed the vicar who laughed swishing his vestments.
I noted he was wearing new spectacles too!
Very trendy.
The soup was very nice by the way
Immortal
Trelawnyd at the turn of the Century
Yesterday I received an email from The National Library of Wales,
"Dear Mr Gray,
The National Library of Wales would like to invite you to participate in the UK Web Archive by archiving your web site (http://trelawnydhistory.blogspot.co.uk/). The UK Web Archive is a partnership between the National Library of Wales, the British Library, and the National Library of Scotland, to preserve website for future users. We have identified this web site as an important part of Wales’ documentary heritage and would like it to remain available to researchers in the future. The archived copy of your web site will form part of our permanent collections"
I was tickled pink! For now Going Gently's more serious and more worthy sister blog will be archived for future generations! Auntie Glad words will live on as will the stories of villagers past ( who could forget the animated video between Olwenna Hughes and Gwyneth Jones as they discussed a visiting belly dancer in the village Hall!
If you want to read more about the history of the village it's characters the link is way down my right sidebar...just click on the photo of auntie Glad- Trelawnyd Voices From The Past!
Something We Should All Do
Don't anyone dare to say what a nice guy I am......Please don't that is not why I post the following
I was a few minutes early for work so called into sainsbury's for some dog food on the way.
Of course I treated myself to a sneaky chocolate eclair ( I know, I know) but night shift brings the devil out in a person.
The self service tills were busy and as I and a few others waited in line we watched as a tall, slightly unkempt guy tried to use his debt card to pay for a two litre bottle of coke.
The supervisor was polite and went over to speed the proceedings up, but was forced to explain that his card was some sort of social services payment card which was not valid in the store machines.
The customer began to get slightly irate and it was evident that he perhaps suffered from some mental health issues.
" I need my coke" he stated somewhat forcefully and as the supervisor gently suggested he use some cash I could see that the store security guard was moving in to help.
I went to the next free self service till and by the time I was finished the supervisor was trying to exlain to the customer that he couldn't use a euro to pay for his drink.
The manager was called and more explainations ensued and I left slightly ashamed that I had witnessed a guy on his uppers.
The queue, like most British queues had remained unseeing.
As I drove out of the car park, I noticed the man sitting with his face in his hands in the store foyer. He had no coat and it had started to hail stone,so on impluse I stoped the car in a disabled bay, hurried into the store and took the bottle of coke which had been taken from the guy and left on the supervisor's table. I paid for it at the self sevice till and smiled at the supervisor with a it's not your fault look before giving it to the man on the bench.
" Enjoy it mate" I told the customer who took the bottle gratefully.
And on the way to work, that eclair never tasted so sweet!
I was a few minutes early for work so called into sainsbury's for some dog food on the way.
Of course I treated myself to a sneaky chocolate eclair ( I know, I know) but night shift brings the devil out in a person.
The self service tills were busy and as I and a few others waited in line we watched as a tall, slightly unkempt guy tried to use his debt card to pay for a two litre bottle of coke.
The supervisor was polite and went over to speed the proceedings up, but was forced to explain that his card was some sort of social services payment card which was not valid in the store machines.
The customer began to get slightly irate and it was evident that he perhaps suffered from some mental health issues.
" I need my coke" he stated somewhat forcefully and as the supervisor gently suggested he use some cash I could see that the store security guard was moving in to help.
I went to the next free self service till and by the time I was finished the supervisor was trying to exlain to the customer that he couldn't use a euro to pay for his drink.
The manager was called and more explainations ensued and I left slightly ashamed that I had witnessed a guy on his uppers.
The queue, like most British queues had remained unseeing.
As I drove out of the car park, I noticed the man sitting with his face in his hands in the store foyer. He had no coat and it had started to hail stone,so on impluse I stoped the car in a disabled bay, hurried into the store and took the bottle of coke which had been taken from the guy and left on the supervisor's table. I paid for it at the self sevice till and smiled at the supervisor with a it's not your fault look before giving it to the man on the bench.
" Enjoy it mate" I told the customer who took the bottle gratefully.
And on the way to work, that eclair never tasted so sweet!
Better Late Than Never!
The postman woke me up around 1pm
No, he didn't creep up the stairs to whisper sweet nothings into my slumbering ear!
He just knocked on the door, setting off a chain reaction of hysteria amongst the animals.
" A gift from one of your blog readers!" He told me authoritatively
He seems to know me so well.
He was right! It was a late Christmas gift from Jan in Australia.
I've only had a few hours sleep.
I am back at work later.
Snow is on the way
But it made me smile!
Thank you
No, he didn't creep up the stairs to whisper sweet nothings into my slumbering ear!
He just knocked on the door, setting off a chain reaction of hysteria amongst the animals.
" A gift from one of your blog readers!" He told me authoritatively
He seems to know me so well.
He was right! It was a late Christmas gift from Jan in Australia.
I've only had a few hours sleep.
I am back at work later.
Snow is on the way
But it made me smile!
Thank you
Bed Soon!
Short staffed again at work so, last night I did an extra shift and will do the same tonight.
Even after a walk all the dogs have decided to play fight, so as I am typing this ( in the bath) I wish I could give the lot of them a dose of ketamine so I can sleep.
Oh for a silent home.....with just the sound of the gale force wind whistling around my gable end
I'm too old for this lark!
Even after a walk all the dogs have decided to play fight, so as I am typing this ( in the bath) I wish I could give the lot of them a dose of ketamine so I can sleep.
Oh for a silent home.....with just the sound of the gale force wind whistling around my gable end
I'm too old for this lark!
Bad Neighbours
The weather has taken a bit of a turn.
The houses, cottages and bungalows of the village seem to cling the side of Gop Hill as driving rain and gales rush in from the North West and the dogs' midday walk was cut short as all they walked to do was to turn their backs to the wind.
I only saw one person when we were out and she waved briefly as she ran for her car. I wondered if things had settled down for her, for the last time we spoke she told me of a rather unfortunate altercation she had with her neighbour soon after the new year.
The fall out was " something and nothing" over a shared right of way, but the whole thing had been exacerbated by alcohol , as the neighbour had been drinking heavily during the day.
Apparently the police were eventually called to pour oil on the waters.
I understood the difficulty felt, as once, when I was selling raffle tickets on afternoon, I had to deal with a rather unpleasant moment with the neighbour who, obviously relaxed after a couple of wines, felt that she could refuse my polite request with a brusqueness which bordered on rudeness.
Some people a mean drunks, plain and simple.
We once lived for a short time in a cottage which backed onto some social housing. Our then neighbour lived a somewhat chaotic lifestyle, in which alcohol, drugs loud partying and even louder arguments were the norm and I remember very well, that awful pit in the stomach feeling when doors were banged and shouting in the night woke you up.
Our neighbours now couldn't be better. Mandy & Sailor John have often cared for the field when we are away. Trendy Carol's dogs play wonderfully with ours and Old Trevor demands nothing more than the occasional request for me to to some heavy lifting for him ( he is 94! ) so I can understand The Prof's worry of who will eventually reside on the plot of land which has been just put up for sale, right in the centre of our corner of the village.
" Let's hope they are not riff raff!" The Prof commentated the other day
Multi Tasking and Winnie Goes AWOL
Something always gives when you are multi tasking.
Feeding dogs, putting up a curtain pole, browning chicken skins to garnish dogs' dinners, preparing chicken casserole, picking logs up, flirting with Mandy next door ( she's just had a new " big hair" change) Mary's ear drops, shit......no onions for casserole, so hurried trip to shop, remove old shelving from airing cupboard, tidy away excess laundry into space saving " suction bags" ( great fun) hoover mummified mouse from under the bed......
I was hoovering the office carpet when there was a loud knock on the front door.
When I came downstairs a young farmer type was standing in front of the window
" Have you lost something? " he mouthed and I gestured for the man to come round to the back door where I met him at the garden wall.
He pointed to his tall pick up parked by the side of the cottage.
Sitting happily in the passenger seat with her big paws up on the dashboard was Winnie.
" I saw her down by the water treatment" he told me " she got in straight away when I stopped"
I was baffled.
Apparently after I had given her her dinner, Winnie had taken herself off for an uncharacteristic wander. She had slipped through the open gate (!) and had marched off for a mile down the lane. The farmer had picked her up when she had decided to rest , like an ugly and exhausted hooker on a small grass verge and had driven the length of the lane ( some three miles) in the search for her home. Finally he stopped a woman outside her house. who recognized Winnie and she told the farmer where she lived so kindly he brought her home as she happily enjoyed her impromptu country drive.
" She's a friendly big thing" the young man said opening the truck door
" Did she try to kiss you?" I asked him as Winnie reluctantly scrabbled down.
" No......but she HAS eaten half of me crisps!" He replied.
Slapped Hard With A Velvet Glove
Hollywood Royalty Meryl Streep flexed the most dignified part of her speech giving skills last night with the most effective of put downs against Donald Trump.
Stating that his mocking of a disabled journalist was something that " broke her heart" Streep, in the hushed motherly tones added
The only reply Trump could think to give was to call Streep " overrated""It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter, someone he outranked in privilege and power and the capacity to fight back. It, it kind of broke my heart when I saw it and I still can’t get it out my head because it wasn’t in a movie. It was real life. And this instinct to humiliate when it’s modeled by someone in the public platform, by someone powerful, it filters down into everybody’s life because it kind of gives permission for other people to do the same thing.Disrespect invites disrespect. Violence incites violence. When the powerful use their position to bully others, we all lose"
That comment alone proves to the world that he is an arsehole!
Reality Not Frivolity
The Prof has been put on the train to London. I am sure he will enjoy his pristine boutique hotel more than usual, for I have just been merrily cleaning up , deep dark blobs to bile from the carpets.....old George occasionally suffers from bilious attacks, especially if he is late for a meal, it doesn't happen often as I am fastidious about him getting his meals on time.
I was somewhat fed up this afternoon but cheered myself up by buying cushions and egg cups from a garden centre in Chester ( I'm easily pleased)
Tonight I am going to start to read my Christmas gift from my father-in-law
I was somewhat fed up this afternoon but cheered myself up by buying cushions and egg cups from a garden centre in Chester ( I'm easily pleased)
Tonight I am going to start to read my Christmas gift from my father-in-law
Crush II
Lazy post two!
It's fun
Who is your present day crush?
Mine?
Cy Owens " The Force Essex" ( tv reality cop show)
It's fun
Who is your present day crush?
Mine?
Cy Owens " The Force Essex" ( tv reality cop show)
Brain Storm
The broiler " ghost" hens sunbathing
We take so many things for granted.
Last night I watched a Sky documentary which was rather ho-hum
The presenter, however, did allow himself , a moment of gushing, after a group of India women, resplendent in their multi coloured saris, walked into view upon a barren and sunbaked landscape and his emotional reaction to such a visual experience proved to be a rather moving experience.
Here are a few of mine, brainstormed during a wet and cold walk this morning
- Being present at scores of patient deathbeds, watching a fellow human being taking their last breath on this planet.
- Looking at Sheffield's Skyline on a cold night from the roof of the city's Cancer Hospital
- Witnessed four hens corner, attack and subsequently kill a crow who had been stealing their layers pellets.
- watched twins being delivered by emergency Cesarean section.
- Winked at by a handsome Yorkshire policeman when he was on duty
- Taking in the vast and graceful Sydney Harbour for the first time on a sunny Sunday afternoon
- Sitting through a maths class as a giggling twelve year old in front of busty Mrs Fielding who had two buttons of her blouse undone.
- Driving into New York City at night for the first time.
- Watching an emergency doctor perform internal cardiac massage
- Being the only human watching four dogs galloping happily on an empty beach
- Over an hour lying in warm grass, watching six abused factory broiler hens finally leaving their hen house ,to sun bathe for the very first time.
- Seeing my husband smiling so uncharacteristically during the entirety of our wedding.
My New Co Pilot
Eighteen months ago Meg died.
I spent more time with her than I did with my husband and her absence literally broke my heart as we all know that hearts can so easily be damaged by the all encompassing love only a dog can give a master.
The Prof saw the void that Meg left and like all concerned husbands who wanted to heal an awful situation, he was galvanised in the attempt to fill it with the impulse purchase of a new puppy.
Mary subsequently arrived with a bang.
A year later, I now have a new co pilot.
When I sit in a chair, she is by my side in a heartbeat. When I have a bath, she stands guard at the bathroom door and when she gets the chance, after the first dog walk at dawn, she curls up into the lie-in bed, her face tucked up under my chin like a baby rabbit with it's mother.
Of course all this says more about me, than it does about her.
For I am never alone, even when I am enjoying a satisfying number two with the paper.
I spent more time with her than I did with my husband and her absence literally broke my heart as we all know that hearts can so easily be damaged by the all encompassing love only a dog can give a master.
The Prof saw the void that Meg left and like all concerned husbands who wanted to heal an awful situation, he was galvanised in the attempt to fill it with the impulse purchase of a new puppy.
Mary subsequently arrived with a bang.
A year later, I now have a new co pilot.
When I sit in a chair, she is by my side in a heartbeat. When I have a bath, she stands guard at the bathroom door and when she gets the chance, after the first dog walk at dawn, she curls up into the lie-in bed, her face tucked up under my chin like a baby rabbit with it's mother.
Of course all this says more about me, than it does about her.
For I am never alone, even when I am enjoying a satisfying number two with the paper.
A " Field Of Dreams " Moment
My family often nag me to amalgamate the better parts of Going Gently into some sort of bestselling paperback. The Prof says whimsy sells, and I guess he is right given the plethora of " heartwarming" and " uplifting" tales of life changing encounters middle aged pongos like myself experience when lifestyles change and temple hair is lightening from brunette to a gentle grey.
On the way to the panto the other night, my sister remembered what I call a " Field of Dreams" moment which she said would be a " Satisfying " denouement to the chapter where two middle aged gays first moved into a tight knit Welsh village!
Nine years ago, I held my very first " allotment open evening" It was on the back of similar open evenings my sister organised at her own town allotment, where friends and family had the opportunity to survey her vegetable beds, have tea and cake and make a contribution of a charity of her choice.
My first allotment open was a small affair, but it was important to me as I left several hopeful posters around the village inviting everyone to attend. Attendance by the Trelawnyd-ites meant everything and as the 6 pm opening deadline loomed close, My sister remembered me gazing up the lane in a sudden downpour of summer rain, worried that no one would come.
I should not have worried ...for the " Field Of Dreams " moment arrived as powerfully as anything ever seen in a sentimental movie or tv series! the only thing that was bloody lacking was a sudden swelling of a musical score, for at exactly 6 pm and led by Auntie Glad hidden underneath an oversized umbrella, a long line of village characters weaved their way down the Church lane towards the field to support the event.
It was a real Hollywood moment amid the wet grass and Slightly damp Victoria sponges.
Perhaps, my sister is right. It is these kind of moments balanced with the sadness of those normal life dramas that make a story readable and accessible to all. Light and froth peppered with emotional romps......perhaps that is the formula..
Anyway over to you all.....you all, like me, have a book inside you......if you eventually write it, what would be your " Field Of Dreams" moment?
I'd be interested to know.
On the way to the panto the other night, my sister remembered what I call a " Field of Dreams" moment which she said would be a " Satisfying " denouement to the chapter where two middle aged gays first moved into a tight knit Welsh village!
Nine years ago, I held my very first " allotment open evening" It was on the back of similar open evenings my sister organised at her own town allotment, where friends and family had the opportunity to survey her vegetable beds, have tea and cake and make a contribution of a charity of her choice.
My first allotment open was a small affair, but it was important to me as I left several hopeful posters around the village inviting everyone to attend. Attendance by the Trelawnyd-ites meant everything and as the 6 pm opening deadline loomed close, My sister remembered me gazing up the lane in a sudden downpour of summer rain, worried that no one would come.
I should not have worried ...for the " Field Of Dreams " moment arrived as powerfully as anything ever seen in a sentimental movie or tv series! the only thing that was bloody lacking was a sudden swelling of a musical score, for at exactly 6 pm and led by Auntie Glad hidden underneath an oversized umbrella, a long line of village characters weaved their way down the Church lane towards the field to support the event.
It was a real Hollywood moment amid the wet grass and Slightly damp Victoria sponges.
Perhaps, my sister is right. It is these kind of moments balanced with the sadness of those normal life dramas that make a story readable and accessible to all. Light and froth peppered with emotional romps......perhaps that is the formula..
Anyway over to you all.....you all, like me, have a book inside you......if you eventually write it, what would be your " Field Of Dreams" moment?
I'd be interested to know.
" Twelve O' Clock and No Sign Of Dick!"
Theatre Clwyd Panto Aladdin.......great fun.....even the Prof got up and danced at the end!
I'm running late today.
The dog walk around the village took over an hour this morning, as numerous encounters meant numerous chats along the lines of how was Your Christmas ? and What did you do for New Year's Eve?
"Odd Bob" wanted to know about The Avian Flu Threat, which was a nice change and it took me ten minues to go through the plot of Theatre Clwyd's Aladdin with villager Mandy over on the village Green so much so that Winnie got overly bored, slipped her collar and started to walk home by herself.
She's such a Diva....
And before you all shriek with worry...I must say I don't worry about Winnie and traffic, for she has actually learnt that she can only cross the main road when she hears the Pelican Crossing alarm! No alarm no crossing......
She's brighter than she looks!
I am presently making a lamb gravy for homemade Shepherds' Pie for supper. Then it's " Operation Christmas Decoration Removal followed by the bathing of the Welsh terriers (post kennels).
Work has asked me to go in for an extra shift........
I've told them nicely to bugger off.
Back to normal
Three hours sleep and now I am about to dunk my sorry arse into the bath before a family meal and the panto in Theatre Clwyd.
I need amphetamines,
But Mrs Trellis has no doubt run out.......
Speak tomorrow when things are back to normal......the Prof will be at work happily whipping the local academics into shape and the dogs and I will be home in Trelawnyd
Hey ho
I need amphetamines,
But Mrs Trellis has no doubt run out.......
Speak tomorrow when things are back to normal......the Prof will be at work happily whipping the local academics into shape and the dogs and I will be home in Trelawnyd
Hey ho
Selfie
A quick New Year's selfie
Believe me we didnt look like this by the end of the shift!
So dont expect any replies to comments
Im buggered!
Are You Sitting Comfortably ?
I'm working night shift tonight and tomorrow night
New Year's Eve will be a non event for me which is fine.
I will leave you with a short story...
This Christmas the Prof and I thought it nice to share some moody stories in front of the new log burner. To be honest he made a bit of a show, of just how wonderful, a different " activity" would be during this rather quiet shadow of the Christmas Holiday.
I fancied reading out Daphne DuMaurier's short story of The Birds but the Prof wanted a Gothic murder mystery!
The night before last he read out an strange little tale about Ghosts in a Country Hall and last night I agreed to read a somewhat odd 1950 s short story called The Santa Claus Club.
I thought it was a rather nice couple thing to do.
Last night, I walked the dogs at nine and we settled down in front of the fire for me to read out the scary tale of murder most horrid.
The story was longer than expected, but I persevered with the verbose text in subdued lighting!
25 minutes into the story, I stopped briefly to cough ...............and saw my husband fast asleep on the couch!
Hey ho!
Happy new Year dearhearts!
New Year's Eve will be a non event for me which is fine.
I will leave you with a short story...
This Christmas the Prof and I thought it nice to share some moody stories in front of the new log burner. To be honest he made a bit of a show, of just how wonderful, a different " activity" would be during this rather quiet shadow of the Christmas Holiday.
I fancied reading out Daphne DuMaurier's short story of The Birds but the Prof wanted a Gothic murder mystery!
The night before last he read out an strange little tale about Ghosts in a Country Hall and last night I agreed to read a somewhat odd 1950 s short story called The Santa Claus Club.
I thought it was a rather nice couple thing to do.
Last night, I walked the dogs at nine and we settled down in front of the fire for me to read out the scary tale of murder most horrid.
The story was longer than expected, but I persevered with the verbose text in subdued lighting!
25 minutes into the story, I stopped briefly to cough ...............and saw my husband fast asleep on the couch!
Hey ho!
Happy new Year dearhearts!
Bring On The Baby Jesus!!!!
" Go on it'll be fun..." I told a somewhat skeptical Prof before we left the house
" I love doing it!"
He raised a Roger Moore eyebrow at least one centimetre ( where it stayed for the duration) and we drove to the do-it-yourself garage in Rhuddlan to jet wash the car.
" Do you want to give it a blast!" I shouted to him after I had started the power hose and he shook his head slowly in a kind of bless him, he actually enjoys this bollocks kind of way.
To me mucking around with a jet wash is the ultimate fun thing to do on a muggy Saturday afternoon.
We saw Gaynor, The mad Organist in Marks and Spencers. She had a trolley which necessitated me playing my favourite "sneak the produce into the trolley " game without her knowledge.
I managed two Chinese meals for four and a packet of prawn crackers before she twigged, which. For me, was a very poor show indeed!
It always amazes the Prof just how little things like the jet wash and " Sneak the produce" game amuses me.
I think I am just easily pleased
Mrs Trellis caught us today too, with her rather sweet late gift of a miniature glass Christmas Tree. She declined The Prof's offer of a stiff gin martini to keep out the cold but I could see she was sorely tempted by the offer. She told us that the Christmas Church service went very well and that this year the baby Jesus was brought down the aisle to be placed ceremoniously into the crib by some of the village children. Usually the job is carried out by Mrs D, the Church warden after the vicar gives the cry of " Bring on the BABY Jesus"
This always used to give me a fit of the giggles when uttered.
Like I said...I'm easily pleased!
" I love doing it!"
He raised a Roger Moore eyebrow at least one centimetre ( where it stayed for the duration) and we drove to the do-it-yourself garage in Rhuddlan to jet wash the car.
" Do you want to give it a blast!" I shouted to him after I had started the power hose and he shook his head slowly in a kind of bless him, he actually enjoys this bollocks kind of way.
To me mucking around with a jet wash is the ultimate fun thing to do on a muggy Saturday afternoon.
We saw Gaynor, The mad Organist in Marks and Spencers. She had a trolley which necessitated me playing my favourite "sneak the produce into the trolley " game without her knowledge.
I managed two Chinese meals for four and a packet of prawn crackers before she twigged, which. For me, was a very poor show indeed!
It always amazes the Prof just how little things like the jet wash and " Sneak the produce" game amuses me.
I think I am just easily pleased
Mrs Trellis caught us today too, with her rather sweet late gift of a miniature glass Christmas Tree. She declined The Prof's offer of a stiff gin martini to keep out the cold but I could see she was sorely tempted by the offer. She told us that the Christmas Church service went very well and that this year the baby Jesus was brought down the aisle to be placed ceremoniously into the crib by some of the village children. Usually the job is carried out by Mrs D, the Church warden after the vicar gives the cry of " Bring on the BABY Jesus"
This always used to give me a fit of the giggles when uttered.
Like I said...I'm easily pleased!
Mrs Trellis' glass Christmas Tree next to my light up hippo!
Who says I'm not a classy bitch?
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