Posh Porn

The plumber returned to tinker away with all of the radiators this morning and Winnie, with her serious face on, shadowed his every move, her nose inches from his tinkering!
When he came downstairs he mentioned that he saw one of our original bits of art propped up in the Prof's office
" I like your bit of posh porn!" He quipped
I was  embarrassed and just smiled weakly


Man The Pumps!


Sandra, the village Hall's caretaker spied me down Byron Street and hurried over with her elderly Pug.
As my dogs surrounded him for multiple botty sniffs she gave me one of those I'm glad to have bumped into you moments and asked if I would help her with her Christmas Fair which is booked on the 2nd of December .
Could I Marshall the troops and man the kitchen?
Of course I said I could, Sandra is such a sweetheart

Ps Nice to see the Aussie's jumping on the ever growing bandwagon


Workmen

The plumber seems like an old, safe pair of hands.
He arrived early with a slightly dim and very loud sidekick in order to remove an ancient radiator in the kitchen and to replace it with a shiny new one.

I find myself getting all " blokey" when in the company of practical men.
I call them " mate" and ask them technical questions that I have no way of understanding when answered.
It's the same phenomenon I used to see when my English sounding father used to talk to an old Welsh Farmer at the farm my sister kept her horse. My father always suddenly acquired a Welsh accent when they chatted, a fact he never had any insight into
It's the chameleon in us I guess

Anyhow I've never really been happy in an all male environment .
I once worked on an all male ward in psychiatry. Male staff, male patients, male domestics, male doctors.
It was a dreadful experience where too much testosterone, banter, crudeness and Micky taking ruled the day.
I was far too fey to have felt comfortable in that environment.
I never could fit in with it all....it was a rehash of the misery of games at school.

Now, because I am more comfortable in my own skin, I can cope better with company which is out of my comfort zone so to speak.

And when all else fails the offer of a hot cup of tea and a large chocolate biscuit always seems to break the ice.

Dealing with workmen at home can be rather stressful!
What are your stories?
I'd be interested to know

Ps I've just furnished the guys with tea and kitkats and the testosterone filled apprentice has just asked where I got my bespoke cheese board from as he " absolutely loved it's design!

My sister Janet designed it !

" For Being Such A Cool Dude"


It's good to say this but The Walking Dead, after a somewhat shaky start, is now back on form.
During a tense fourth episode , King Ezekiel has lost most of his subjects in a surprise attack. carol is left to face the saviours alone and good, happy old Jerry (Cooper Andrews)comes  up trumps with his theatrical axe.
The episode has everything: a deposed king who is really a flim-flam man, a woman of fifty who can kick ass better than Sigourney Weaver and a sweet natured Polynesian who has suddenly become a firm fan favourite! Oh and Richk and Daryl kick some saviour ass and do some Bro bonding
Pity Shiva had to die but I suspect the CGI budget was probably well over what it ought to be .  

Idiot


A very nice inspector for the RSPCA came around this morning as I was making parsnip soup. She had reports of an " umkempt goat" being dumped in a field.
After we popped over to the Ukrainian Village she was happy that Irene, was not unkempt, dumped or even a goat!
I have no problem with well meaning people worrying about animals, even though they don't understand Scottish sheep look scruffy when moulting
The inspector said she would try and help me find a field mate for Irene.

I always feel very guilty when I deal with officials in uniform.
I can resort to babbling when stopped by the police , (which has happened several times when I have driven home late after Samaritans ) it's a false guilty/ nervous kind of thing!
The RSPCA inspector was lovely and was busily kissing Winnie on the Forehead as the terriers crowded around her but I still found myself admitting to her that when I was eight I poured peppermint essence into our pond which killed all of my mother's goldfish!
Huh?

Remembrance Sunday

I was reminded of this wonderful talking heads episode of the BBC series Queers today
Wonderfully moving...stick with it..it's worth it



Murder


Kenneth Branagh makes a rather good Belgium detective in Murder on the Orient Express.
He has a certain twinkle in the eye and a steely kindness which was sadly lacking in Albert Finney's 1974 overblown creation . I liked him
The film is ok. It's not as good as the " original" but it passed muster with nice performances from Branagh and Michelle Pfeiffer as the wisecracking Mrs Hubbard. Unfortunately most of the cast don't have any time to flex their dramatic muscles and so the talents of Manuel Garcia Rulfo, Judi Dench and Olivia Coleman just stand around looking worried.
I found myself missing Ingrid Bergman and her " little brown babies!" 
Oh , and I hated that the closing credits featuring the magnificent train disappearing into the sunset was spoilt by the now obligatory modern day power ballad hoping it will win an oscar for best song.


Diary Of A 1950s Welsh Housewife



I get up before the Prof and make sure I am neat and tidy for the day ahead.
I check my reflection in the bathroom mirror before anything else
Hair perfect....make up discreet .....apron straight!
Now to prepare breakfast.
The Prof has his boiled egg and soldiers in bed with a strong cup of sweet tea, he is reading Boffin's Weekly.
I wake the children. They are such naughty children too as none of them want to get out of bed in the mornings! No pancakes for Winifred this morning as I notice she has put on too much weight recently. An extra few laps around the hockey pitch is the order of the day me thinks.
Men don't want to see extra large knickerbockers airing on the clotheshorse do they?
That sort of thing gets their roving eyes started .
After checking that William, Mary and baby George have washed behind their ears, it's a brisk walk around the village before breakfast and out they go to play.

I need to get cracking with my chores.
After quick race around with the old ewbank and some elbow grease with a duster and the house is looking all spick and span. I change into a clean apron and bang out a dozen jam tarts and meat pie before running hubby a nice hot bath.
I've already laid out a fresh cardigan for him to wear.
While he soaks I pop on my coat and hat and picking up my wicker basket I trot to the village shop.
Mrs Trellis is buying her usual quarter of tea and a French fancy as I wait in line.
Tut tut tut I think , " a moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips !" But I say nothing...I'm far too nice.
Mr Jason the shopkeeper gives me a wink and says he's got a Cumberland sausage just in with my name on it, we laugh gayly.
I politely refuse Mr Jason's sausage and purchase instead three slices of ham and a tomato for the Prof's tea. Keeping your man fed and watered is the sure way to maintain a happy marriage my
mother always told me....oh and acting like a right whore in the bedroom helps a bit too!

To be continued......

Sandwich


The Prof was attending an awards do and asked for me to pick him up at 7.30 .
He said we would go out for dinner.
I scrubbed up, donned my New York duds and was about to drive the 20 miles to meet him when I got the message
Awards overrun won't get out until going on ten pm
At 9.45 I was eating a service station coronation chicken sandwich in the car park


Susan Hayward

This is for a friend who is having a shit time

With much love

Frank


When I picked up William and Mary from the kennels I had to wait for a while in the farm courtyard for the kennel owner to be free.
William was trotting around like a puppy with a squeaky toy in his mouth and shadowing him was his " exercise mate" , a very elderly black Labrador . I was told the two dogs had " made friends" during William's stay.
The Labrador ambled over to lay his muzzle into the palm of my hand, and I could see that like William, he was a gentle old soul.
" He's been with us over a year" the kennel owner explained as she tried to catch Mary " His name is Frank"
I asked about Frank's story as he turned to William to lick his blind eye gently and it was a sad one.
Frank, was the apple of his owner's eye. She doted on him ever since he was a puppy and the two were apparently inseparable.
When the owner became seriously ill, her husband , through necessity , had Frank boarded for a while and when his wife died suddenly , he asked if the dog could stay a while longer.
Now grief is a strange affair for many people to deal with and the kennel owner explained that husband could not emotionally cope with the dog at home , a dog that was adored so deeply by his wife.
And so he was sent away like a child at boarding school.
" The owner is totally stuck" the kennel owner said sadly as Frank and William tottered around together " He's too riddled with guilt to rehome Frank and too brittle to have him home.....and so he stays here with us" 
Frank smiled like only labradors can do
And I felt awful taking William home

Souvenirs


The cottage is more or less Silent this morning.
No taxi horns, no police sirens, no bustle, no clatter.
All I can hear is Winnie's rasping snores and the crowing of the bachelors as Mandy from next door feeds them and Irene  stale bread.
The dogs and Albert are reunited on the duvet and are all fast asleep.
I'm washing and packing away the contents of the kitchen cupboards today in readiness for the new kitchen.
No radio, no music and no noise.
Everything is nicely zen.

The Prof and I have a tradition of buying Christmas decorations from New York
This time we have gone Camp " Opera" and oh sooo Gay
With The Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute and Clara from The Nutcracker

I placed them on the mantlepiece to look at for a while before getting cracking on washing and packing away the glassware.
Back to normal

The Glamour of real life


We are on the final leg of our holiday, namely the Arriva Trains Wales journey from Chester along the North Wales coast.
It's always a thankless Micky Mouse kind of trip with the great unwashed making the place look untidy.
The Prof is already bemoaning the lack of his daily Espresso Cocktail overlooking Grand Central Station's main concourse .
" Everything looks so dull and BORING" he sighed as he eyed the bedraggled and the forlorn
" Everything....Everything is so, sooo, soooo...unattractive!"
Well I feel somewhat unattractive, I can tell you!
No sleep on the plane and an hour snoring my head off on the London to Chester train where I dribbled crisp crumbs over my new hoodie top and got laughed at by two teenage boys, who thought that the sight of a near unconscious Welshman with a face the consistency of play doh hilarious!

Travelling is not glamorous !
You forget that in all the excitement of Espresso cocktails and foreign accents

The Last New York Post

Which one's which?

Today we had our final breakfast at Pershing Square then walked most of the way down to Battery Park to catch the Staten Island Ferry( a tradition when we go to New York) it blew away the cobwebs rather nicely before Chinatown and an amble through Little Italy.
 I'm writing this on the way to the airport....full of dim sum and the most glorious pork dumplings this side of the Atlantic. Lunch in Chinatown in what could only be described as a " basic cafe Knocked up in someone's garage" was a surprising treat. We found the dumpling house Mistress Maddie suggested going to, only to find it shut, so we ambled down a street which looked as though it had been bombed during WW2 , found the nearest eatery and was promptly sat on a large round table with a family of Chinese locals.
The food couldn't have been better! A wonderful end to a cracking city break!

Pershing Square

Final Thoughts


Our hotel in on Lexington and 45th. We are sandwiched between the US post office and the shadow of the Chrysler Building. Just opposite is the vibrant  food hall of Grand Central's market with it's magnificent upside down tree chandelier.
We like this part of town.
We are both tired today.
We have walked over sixty miles in three days ( fitbit)
The Texan Church shooting is on the news but so is much local news including the Mayor elections.
It would seem New York wants an independent voice and someone who would stand up against Trump for the benefit of the city.
Watching the crowds that unceasingly cheered on the Marathon runners yesterday, it is not hard to see just how proud New Yorkers are of their city.
Normality tomorrow.
Bulldog masturbation, old dog puddles, cat hairs on my trendy New York hoodie ( mutton dressed as lamb - who am I kidding?) and a countdown to a new kitchen !
Hey ho
Ps I managed to watch The Walking Dead last night!

MOMA

Yes...but IS it art?

Walnut & Raisin cream cheese bagels for breakfast!
Shopping for clothes
A lovely visit to Christina's World at MOMA
Hot dogs in the rain as we watched some of the 40,000 New York marathon runners enter the final stages at Central Park ( a wonderfully uplifting experience thanks to the exuberant New York crowds)
Espresso cocktails then dinner a little later
Chinatown tomorrow!

La Boheme

The end of the second act had to be seen to be believed



All Too Much

My feet have been worn away to stumps.
Today's been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. The 9/11 museum at ground zero is a truly humbling and emotional experience and is a place given universal reverence by the people who go there.
I was near tears several times during our guided tour, as I was sitting outside at the dramatic waterfalls situated on the footprint of the towers.
We ate pizza in the street in Soho then walked up Manhattan from the meat packing district via the High Line before coming back to the hotel in Midtown .
In a few minutes we are off to the Oyster Bar at Grand Central then it's La Boheme at the Met! 
Hey ho



72 Degrees

Angel of The Waters Central Park

Dedication on a Central Park bench

He " almost" smiled


A moody and rather warm and humid Manhattan

2am

I promise no more selfies!
As usual I was pulled by American customs at Newark so we got into Manhattan 2am GMT
Just enough time to have a short walk