Monday, 11 December 2017

The Walking Dead mid season finale

oh dear,.........well lets start positively
Big Jerry, Carol, Diane and Judith and Michonne survived the episode.
Rosita almost smiled at Tara .
Dr Carson escaped Sanctuary with Gabriel whilst Dwight made good and joined the good guys as did Siddig
Carol led the Kingdom people to safety
And Daryl led the oh so few Alexandrian survivors out of town in a load of bin lorries as Nabila kicked some ass

Unfortunately the writers now are repeating the mistakes they made in Season four where they had Carol down as a serial killer....they've written a plot that doesn't quite make sense
And like Judge Judy says
"If it doesn't make sense it's not true"
So the saviours suddenly were able to counterattack on a sixpence
So Enid on a quest to get Oceanside on board shot their leader,
Maggie got herself trapped then was unexpectedly released
The dreadful Jadis ran off in the first reel
And because Chandler Riggs starts college this year ( and is still supposed to be 13 or so) Carl bloody well got bitten !
So it's just  The Atlanta Three for season 9.

I still love the programme ....a great final shot in the sewers.

The Christmas Elf

A small  face appeared at the lane window this morning. ,
I knew who it was immediately as the figure was wearing a pointed woolly hat with a large Pom Pom on the top of it.
Mrs Trellis was peeping through the window, she looked like a Christmas Elf and made it clear that she wanted to see the new kitchen.
I motioned for her to come in.
She made all of the right noises about the cabinets then pointed to a small square framed piece of embroidery which I had hung in the space between the window and the glass cupboard.
" That's sweet" she said reading the signature " GH 1988!" 

I had  almost forgotten the story behind the embroidery, it was so long ago now, but I think it's an interesting one and is one worth repeating some twenty nine years after it was made.
When I worked as a new staff nurse on an acute psychiatric ward in York it was usual for each trained nurse to be allocated as a named nurse for a small number of patients. Named nurses were responsible for planning , implementing and evaluating the care of up to three patients and was the go-to person for the patient to go to when a whole lot of crisis surfaced during their admissions.

One of my patients was a young man called Graham.
Graham heard voices and thought people in authority were stealing his thoughts. He became ill as he started University life, a stressful transitory stage in life which sometimes precipitates sudden mental illness.
He was also suicidal at times.and was placed on close observation by staff, which meant you had to be in the same room with him at all times.
These times of observation could be rather stressful and boring, for both patient and nurse so in an effort to forge some sort of relationship and to pass the time , I persuaded the occupational therapy department to give me two embroidery kits for Graham and I to practice with during the quieter times on the ward.
Now back in the eighties ,  the butch members of the nursing staff found it rather strange that a member of male staff and a young male patient were often found sitting in the window seat of the day room embroidering like characters from Pride and Prejudice but the  activity focused Graham's mind on a reality away from delusions and hallucinations and allowed him to trust me even though my needlepoint turned out to be a terrible mess.

When I think back now, I cannot remember what happened to Graham. I remember he improved enough to be discharged home. And I remember him coming back to see me as an outpatient for a few weeks before he went back to university.
He presented me with his embroidery as a gift on one of those return visits.
I wondered  if he did alright .....I never heard from him after that .

Sunday, 10 December 2017

A Tiny Moment

Tonight Mary sat for an age just inches away from the log burner
Watching the flames through sleepy eyes
It moved me.

Village Bound

We are effectively snowed in.
The lane clogs up easily with ice and snow at the drop of a hat so this does happen a lot in bad weather, but we have food, fuel and thanks to the new thermal store wonderful wood fired central heating, so all is toasty in Bwthyn y llan.
I've done my neighbourly jobs this morning and after feeding up Irenevand the batchelors with corn I have salted and cleared the pavements in old Trevor's bungalow which lies behind us. Trendy Carol ( in  multicoloured ski jacket and matching accessories)  tottered past and informed me that the village carol service was cancelled due to the bad weather.
This is a shame as Cameron the teenage boffin, was to solo a big moment in the proceedings on his harp!
I was never good at anything, apart from sulking and keeping tropical fish when I was a teen.

Mary and I this morning

Saturday, 9 December 2017


*photo by villager Jean Smith's the awful Trelawnyd village sign

Gifts At Christmas

I've just wrapped a few Christmas gifts to be sent in the post
My " decorations" gifts were posted a while ago now , I've had a tradition for many years now of sending certain friends a large padded envelope full of assorted Christmas decorations.
It's just something I like doing.

The Prof knows one of the gifts I bought him as I have had to ensure that he booked the time off from work. It's a ticket to see Giselle at the Royal Opera House and unlike so many places now that insist that you print your ticket conformation on line, the official  tickets look plush, decorative and reassuringly expensive.
Having said thus..... one year I made him a desk tidy out of a decorated kitty Kat tin!

I always joke with the Prof by saying every gift I buy him is very very expensive, even when it isn't !

Years ago, I realised that a relationship that I was in wasn't going anywhere when I received a microwave oven as a Christmas gift. It was the equivalent of being given a petrol station bunch of carnations .
An ill thought out gift is worse than no gift at all in my book.
I bet that sounds ungrateful to some.
But I don't care.
It's the truth.

Friday, 8 December 2017


Although it has been blizzard conditions at times, the main roads have remained clear though difficult  to negotiate. The village school closed at lunchtime and I only left Trelawnyd once to buy parsnips to make soup.
When I was at Sainsbury's I bought  this

Bugger alone knows why, but it amused me !
I referred to it as a buttplug instead of a pugplug at the checkout.
Thank goodness the cashier didn't appear to hear me


I was due to meet an old friend in Chester today but the weather has closed in and he has been forced to cancel as British Railways will probably be sent into whirling confusion.
I'm disappointed as I was looking forward to the catch up.
The Prof is still working away and with the snow on the ground Winnie gave me one of those " you've got to be fucking kidding!" looks when I opened the back door for our dawn walk.
Only I wanted to go out today. 
It looks like I'll light the fire early and download some old black and white movies from iTunes Store 

The cottage always looks at it's best when it's snowing.

Thursday, 7 December 2017

Sad Sack

I am such a sad sack.
The Prof is working away so I was going to the cinema tonight.
The weather is closing in, so Mary and I went around the village at 8pm to judge the Christmas lights instead.
The old police house on a London Road won

Little Things

" You're easily pleased"
This is one of The Prof's regular phrases
I was wrapping a gift for his mother when he last said it.
The gift was a tiny milk crate complete with milk bottles.
My mother in law has resurrected her childhood dolls house and I've been helping her find furniture for it. It's a simple little pleasure for both of us.
Yesterday I watched Mandy from the village down at the field gate. Daily she calls down to feed Irene a crust of bread, and daily after " tut tut tutting" her presence, Irene gallops down bleating loudly her own hello.
This simple little moment of gift giving providing Ewe and woman with a daily sweetness.

I think most of us are easily pleased if we think about it , whether we are happy, or sad, or depressed or busy.
Many of us just don't stop to realise it
The Prof has an advent calendar of a cathedral is year and enjoys opening each stained glass window every morning to see what lies underneath.
A nameless neighbour sneaks out of their house for a crafty cigarette in the pull in to the stables field.
Mrs Trellis practicing her piano in the window of her neat bungalow.
Trendy Carol switching on her new Christmas lights

Perhaps is the time of year that helps us realise the importance of these little things.
When I helped out at the village Christmas fair, I had to talk to one character who I fell out with a while ago. The spat then seemed all rather silly and yesterday I wrote them a Christmas card which I will deliver this felt the right thing to do.

What's your little thing?

Wednesday, 6 December 2017


Now I have a sense that Going Gently has been veering towards a lifestyle blog recently, what with my shiny almost complete new kitchen bursting with pride and stories of sage green tiles and newly painted ivory walls filling my blogworld.
I won't apologise for this...the whole project has been almost a full time job, but the end is almost in sight now, so I shall be returning to Village gossip, bulldog self pollution and other such rubbish very soon.
This morning I finished painting and have been doing what any self respecting middle aged gay man loves to do...and that is titivating with crockery!
Out from under the bed came a large cardboard box which had been filled with my old collection of 1930s Burleighware and in the first time in over a decade it was washed and polished and set out to be looked at.
It's now looking more like home.

Tuesday, 5 December 2017

Cack Handed

While I was painting, I stepped into the dogs' water bowl yesterday afternoon and fell over onto the laundry clothes dryer, which was festooned with underpants.
I flung water across the kitchen then as the dryer collapsed under my weight I fell onto the twisted metal and wire scattering dogs and scaring the tiler half to death.
" are you alright?" He asked with a worried look on his face
" Don't worry, I do this all the time!" I chirped
He looked at me as if I was a loon.
I was still holding the paintbrush in my hand

Monday, 4 December 2017

Albert's Life

this photo underlines Albert's life in a dog filled cottage

Getting There

The tiler came at 8.30 and left Winnie bereft at 1pm .
She is beside herself with tradesmen  after workman +++ have been visiting the cottage over the past 3 weeks!.
She watched his every move and even followed him to the toilet at one point.
He made a good job of it
( the tiling not the toilet visit)
The kitchen is now almost finished, save for some painting and titivating .