Jason, Islwyn and the case of the stolen watering can

 

I caught up with two of Trelawnyd’s biggest characters yesterday 

Affable Despot Jason is still around and is just emerging from his usual yearly hibernation. In spring, like the hedgehogs , he shows his public face , and like Cher, resurrects  himself for another year of real life scrutiny. 

I have a spare ticket to see Troy Hawke on Saturday but unfortunately  he’s working , but my message was welcomingly received and we promised each other that we’d meet up very soon, which was nice.

Village Elder Islwyn stopped just before The Archers , he was dressed in his normal uniform of huge yellow workman’s jacket and beanie hat and he wasn’t happy as someone had stolen one of the graveyard watering cans. With forensic certainty he narrowed down the theft to Saturday morning and apparently has some unshared evidence from a local’s door camera 

“ Can you put the details on your blog” he asked, aware that I have 10 thousand page views a day  “ if it suddenly turns up again, we’ll say no more about it”:

I promised I would 

I hope the can is returned for the thief’s sake

Civil War

 My sister came this morning and did the garden. I left her to it as I had a counselling session then planned to go to the cinema. The garden looks lovely and will burst into colour next month

I got into Chester a little early, so went to the Storyhouse to have brunch. kedgeree and crinkle chips 

Bloody lovely it was too.

On my nephew’s suggestion I went to see the drama Civil War which, as it turned out was an inspired choice. Set in  a civil war in modern day USA, we follow the fortunes of four war reporters ( two Journalists and two photographers played by Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Caylee Spaeny, and Stephen McKinley Henderson) Each character is essentially a representation of a whole person, each one showing a recognised facet of someone who has lived man’s inhumanity. So Dunst is the PTSD sufferer who has seen too much, Moura the thrill seeker, Spaeny the rookie and Henderson the old lag who cannot retire even though he is well past his sell by date.

Together the group travel from war torn New York to Washington  to see the President deposed from office , and it’s a grim and terrifying journey where anarchy reigns and life is very cheap indeed . director Alex Garland cranks up the tension until the very end of this unexpected gem of a movie 

Not an easy watch, but an important one.

Our Beach

 

I’ve circled Trelawnyd and Colwyn Bay

We got up early, around 8 am,and drove to Colwyn Bay beach. The Promenade there is wide and clean and pleasant to walk on  and on a Sunday in fine weather , the place feels every European , what with the promenaders, wild swimmers and get fit enthusiasts, all looking busy. This morning we had prayer groups on the beach and several Male  show offs with their own portable sauna, Jogged back and forth from sea to heat.

We walked to Parasellas’ where I bought 2 sausage baps and a coffee. The Welsh sat on their own seats at the outside table and we shared breakfast, which was fun. 

We ambled back along the Promenade to Porth Eirias and I had another coffee next to the “sculpture” of the cormorant as the Welsh watched a posturing standard poodle nearby. 

It was heading for eleven when we all returned to Bluebell and the car park was already full to bursting.

And it was time for home

Tempest

 This is something I hope to see on my next London trip

Friday Observations

 It’s Friday and it’s trying to be sunny. The Welsh are quiet today after their walk and Roger is sat in my bedroom window watching the grave digger and village Elder Islwyn dig a grave for a lady on Erw Wen I've never met.

I had a tutorial with my senior tutor , she says I’m doing fine, even my academic work ( which I find a challenge) she says is fine . “I like how you write “ she said , which meant a great deal 

Anyhow, the village coffee morning needs helpers tomorrow but as usual I’m working. 

I’m not complaining, weekend work means more money and bills seemed to have shot up this month. 

At least Flintshire County Council is not bankrupt but their monthly bill rise is a real shocker.

I’ve had to pay for Dorothy’s cremation too. The ground had been overly saturated to bury her.

I didn’t have the energy to do it myself.

I have some wriggle room but I will need to book a few extra shifts in April and May as my nephew Leo is coming up for a visit ( his first alone) and I’ve got London trips to see Nu (theatre and the Hampton Court Flower Show) and with Janet to see A Chorus Line at Saddler’s Wells and Buckingham Palace.

Sheffield too is calling me back home as it has a want to do , so I’ll message Mike for a date to meet up

I see that old showboat drag queen Myra DuBois is playing the Ledmill 

I’d love to get to visit the place one last time…….

Roger is barking his what the hell is going on bark 

The mini gravedigger has obviously overfaced him and I’m finishing my coffee before I wash my face and brush my hair in order to meet my family for lunch at the Dinorban 

I will leave you with the lovely lisping Spanish Choir 

Enjoy

How To Handle A Lemon sucker

 

Lemon suckers leave a sour taste in your mouth unless you add something sweet to the mix in order to lessen the acidity. 

I’m getting better at this, thanks to personal development, but I’m still inclined to bite rather than to diffuse In the company of these people, your words become your weapons, not to destroy, but to defend, to protect and to deconstruct their thinking. When they turn things downward, negative and sour, you can turn it right back around again. Lift things upwards, be positive and empowering. 

Question their thinking, ask them why they would choose to take the negative perspective they have? Ask them if their perspective is helpful? You see the more you question them, the less they share their acid tones with you as they don't like being questioned or challenged and will feel less and less inspired to share as they are not getting the response they desire.

As a good friend says ‘act as a sweetener’ around these people. According to Huxton (2017) “ Inside every ‘lemon sucker’ is a great person waiting to escape the misery they are causing themselves and others. They just need to be shown, guided, questioned, nurtured and encouraged to look inside themselves, to explore how they are affecting their own status quo and well-being and that of those around them.”

I don’t want more practice. But I need more if you know what I mean .
I’m being mindful today. It’s colder and we’ve had the odd shower, during which I’ve collected the houseplants and put them outside for a natural bath and drink

I’m going to the theatre later
 

Being Silly

The Randa Girls are no longer girls but young beautiful women, I noticed a new photo of them on their mums Facebook page. I was on my way back from Liverpool , seeing some old friends

Eight years ago they were little girls 

And I occasionally still miss babysitting them after school, it was the last real time I enjoyed being truly silly

Children notice everything.
We had just bathed and towel dried Mary and placed her back into her crate when Eve noticed a big blob of curry sauce on the oven glove which was looped over the oven door handle .
" Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhh! " she called out rather theatrically " Wot's that?"
I made a show of sniffing the brown lump and told both girls that I thought it " smelt of poo"
Suddenly I had both girl's rapt attention
I poked the lump with my finger and lifted it to my nose
" yes it's poo!" I announced and as the girls looked on with surprised frowns
I popped my finger into my mouth
Screaming filled the kitchen.

Late in life , I have learnt the lesson that children love and need silliness.
And the " smuttier" and " dirtier" the silly activity...the happier they become.
Unfortunately I don' t recall my parents ever being silly.
When I picked the girls up from school yesterday afternoon, Eve asked if we could " smash the apples again" ....as " it was fun" We had picked apples from the orchard and had jumped on the soft apples with our shoes so that the geese could feed on the bits the last time they came around after school.

Last night , when affable despot Jason arrived to pick his girls up , he was faced with suddenly dipped curried digits and shouts of "Dad! I have poo on my finger" , and like all experienced parents he smiled a patient smile .
I covered the fingerholes before I replaced the curry in the oven.

Blowing eggs in the garden

Chips

 I’ve always said Carl Rogers never struck me as a party girl

Earnest and not a bag of laughs

I could be wrong 

It’s been all a bit heavy in University today

Hence the chips for lunch