Damp Squib

What a damp squib that eclipse was, the media had whipped the nation into a frenzy of excitement and it's been a long time since I've been excited. I was expecting total darkness with falling temperatures, confused birds singing the dawn chorus at half 7 in the evening, none of that happened, well, not in the North West anyway. Lets hope the 2090 eclipse will be better!

Can you see the yellow orb on the tarpaulin next to Carmen's cake mixer? If you look at it closely you can just make out the eclipse.

There I sat one morning, perched on the edge of the mattress like a gargoyle starring blankly out of the window, I was waiting for a surge of energy to carry me to the bathroom. I blinked, then rubbed my eyes and blinked again, there appears to be a dolphin swimming in the sky, it was very close too, coming to my senses I grabbed my phone and took this snap, it turned out to be an Airbus Beluga XL delivering aircraft componets to nearby Hawarden airport also known as the local landing strip for posh people with private aeroplanes.

 

It wasn't easy choosing a song from the Cocteau Twins one of Mitzi's favourite Siouxsie and the Banshees tribute bands from yesteryear, Frou-Frou Foxes in Mid Summer fire, seems to be apt considering the circumstances, I don't know about you but I'm very suspicious about those so called 'wild fires' that are sweeping across Europe. Love's Easy Tears is another favourite of mine.

   

 

I've learnt another Welsh word. Hen (pronounced Hean) it means Old as in Hen Golwyn (Old Colwyn) I saw it on a road sign en route to Llandudno. 

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Here's a selfie I took showing the maid's new artwork, it's by the English homoeroticism artist Henry Tuke.

Excuse the face, I haven't had Botox in a while, my forehead is slowly turning back into it's natural state that of a Shar Pei. 
 

Stephanotis I grew from seed it's trying to compete with Mago's window ledge monstrosity.

In other news. 

I've just sent an email to the people at The Chase ITV asking them why there are so many American sport questions, who outside America has an interest in Basketball, baseball and the New York bleeding Yankees.

Blimey! It's like watching an AI Yootha Joyce miming to a Transvision Vamp song, very strange. Wendy, surprisingly still sounds the same. 

A Bit of Mold

The maid and I visited Mold on Wednesday or if you're Welsh and that way inclined, you would call it Yr Wyddgrug (pronouced erwithgrig meaning The promient mound) despite its horrible sounding name it's actually a very nice market town in north Wales, the weather was boiling, I drove topless! I bought a rug for the kitchen/dining area from the outdoor market, if anyone asks its from Lewis's.

Poundland with it's view of the Clwydian hills the same range can be seen from Carmen's bedroom window. I don't know who the scrubber with the pink hair is, she is not with us.

Saturday in Chester.

Photo taken inside an overpriced cafe, situated along the bridge near the fancy clock. The sign above the window boasts 'The Best View In Chester' shall we take a look?

I wouldn't call that the best view in Chester. My phone lets me delete anybody in my photos that I find to be undesirable, that's why in parts it looks a bit patchy, if only I could do that in real life.

A list of 'to do' jobs for the building site manager, as requested. Scarlet will be green with envy when she sees my beautiful copperplate handwriting. In retrospect I think it would be wise if I typed it out and rephrase number 3.


For your listening pleasure.  A 1970s North African disco classic. It's joyous.

You might of heard it on the telly advertising a train company, the one with the roller skating tortoise.

The New Garden

It looks almost identical to the last garden I had, minus the summer house, you can't tell from this angle but the garden slopes down considerably, work begins on laying a patio next month. Not a day goes by without hearing the Welsh language or a scouse accent, it's the latter I'm subconsciously picking up on I said 'nor en' to the maid this morning instead of saying 'nothing' which is a great worry. Mitzi with a scouse accent, doesn't bear thinking about. 

Shall we take a look over the garden fence?

Natural beauty. 

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Look what I found hidden away behind the summer house. What a whopper! I'm five foot ten and this thing meets my eyes, it must like growing in gravel.

Looks clean doesn't it? Let's take a closer look in the crevice.

 Looks almost microscopic, taken on a iphone 17.  I'm ashamed to say that the black bits you can see are scratch card droppings and perhaps one or two biscuit crumbs. The sofa has now gone off to charity, I did ask the men who came to collect it if they would take the maid with them, they said no

A friend sent me this snap of a sunset in Benidorm whilst I was in the midst of packing boxes. Bitch!

My kitchen resembling a Shanty town.

The photo was taken 5 cars away whilst stationary at the level crossing.

Diesel Fresh

The weather has been glorious today, I had a walk to the shops, taking a short cut through a horse field I was stopped in my tracks at what I found hanging from a tree! They weren't just hanging there, they were on display, at eye level to ensure maximum visibility for passersby. 

I was tempted to inspect the gusset but thought better of it.

How much! I might go back for them, it's Carmen's birthday in July, they'll be alright after a boil wash.

Gran's Tangerine Dream

Mitzi (the old bitch on the right) with Bobby the budgie at my Granparent's house. I can see Jar Jar Binks in the wallpaper!

My grandparents house in the late seventies/early eighties, I remember was a sea of orange. We’re talking burnt orange, marmalade orange, bruised-apricot I remember the centrepiece in their kitchen was a glass-topped table surrounded by six leather swivel chairs in pumpkin orange.

I often spent the summer holiday at my grandparents house, mostly because my older sister Jezabel couldn't be trusted to look after me, both my parents worked, so I was shipped off to the Orange Kingdom.

I've been sifting through some old photographs and came across this one of me squinting, not at the sun, but at the orange globe ceiling lamp in my gran's living room, the photo must have been taken towards the end of the summer holidays because I looked so fat, I was fed chips, followed by daily knickerbocker glories, shop bought tangerine trifles decorated with piped cream and glace angelica, B&B pudding the slices of bread of which where spread thickly with butter and marmalade too, and the treacle sponge served by the slab accompanied by custard.

Here are the matching curtains, I'm also wearing an orange t-shirt with a picture of Scooby-doo on the front. The hair! My sister used to tong it so I looked like Joanna Lumley's character Purdey from The New Avengers.

My parents had very conservative tastes, an ecru sofa in the living room, white walls throughout and plain oatmeal carpets looking back at it now, I finally understand why mother's taste in decor was so anodyne she must had been traumatised as a child by all that colour growing up. 

Deva Victrix

Deva Victrix the roman name for Chester will be my new home at the end of the month. The south coast will just have to wait. With it's close proximity to Wales, it means I could take the dog for a walk and end up in another country.  It'll be like living in a portal. How mad is that!

Comforting the Disturbed

 

For all you Culture Vultures out there, a little something to tide you over until Mago returns. Quentin Smirhes rendition of Erik Satie's Gnossienne No.1. Get ready to be entranced.

Random Shit For Your Viewing Pleasure

Kitsch queen of the 1950s Vladimir Tretchikoff The Green Lady I'm using it as wallpaper on my new iphone.  

An 80s stocking filler, pen with a built in digital clock, remember them? They were the height of sophistication back then, the novelty soon wore off and I swapped mine for 10 cigs and a Mars bar.

Poor man's asparagus. Shop bought samphire, rooted in salt water in a crocus vase, sadly Waitrose was all out of Samphire so I had to made do with Tesco's finest. Makes an attractive house plant, best suited for coastal gardens, but give it the right growing conditions and it can thrive inland. I like to place a length of it on the roof my mouth and using my tongue to crush it against my palate for a spurt of salty goodness.

Memoirs

As you know I'm not one for idle gossip, tittle tattling and tongue wagging, however, since I'm on my second glass of Malbec, Jam Shed, regular price £8.25, Tesco Clubcard price £7 I can feel my facial lips, loosening. Did I tell you about the time my older sister Jezabel, brought shame on the Flange escutcheon, dragging our family name through the mud by running off with a fairground roustabout called Smiggy, she was 18 and he was 22 with greasy blonde hair, he worked the waltzers spinning the cars, "Scream if you want to go faster" said the man in the booth over the tannoy, my sister screamed, in a way that cats do when they're in heat bringing Smiggy to heel, he spun our car I can still see his tattooed hand and silver buckle ring gripping the rim of our car as he spun us, the ride eventually stopped and we got off, my sister started clacking her chewing gum, looking over her shoulder coquettishly at Smiggy as we left. Jezabel! She ran off with him when the fair ended, she rang home a week later in tears, begging my mother to pick her up from a travellers camp site near Tyne and Wear, mother was appalled, and I was straight on the phone to report my findings to Grandma who was equally appalled.

You will be pleased to know that I am now covid free, it was nothing really, just felt like a mild cold with hot flushes, light headedness and the occasional gasping for breath everytime I exerted myself.

I'm not keen on the change of lyrics, it's not necessary, it's the look of sheer joy on The Wild Tonics faces that makes this video. 

  

 

Interesting read.
I'm often asked to write my memoirs, but where do I start? Miss Flange's School Days?

Back Soon!

I'm setting off on a cruise tomorrow, I think we have free internet access for being elite passengers, so if I see anything untoward I can let you know about it. 

 

Flash

I am more determined than ever to own a dog, when I get settled in my new house, but what sort of dog do have you in mind, I hear you ask? I've always had a soft spot for English bull terriers the sort no-nonsense hairdo, Princess Anne favours. When I was a child my Grandma's neighbour underwent knee surgery, he asked Grandma (I used to call her Grand ma-maa if I was feeling extra theatrical.) if I'd be interested in doing a little job of taking Flash his white bull terrier for a daily walk while 'Mr' recovers from his operation. I was as keen as mustard. I'd seen Flash before but only from a distance so imagine my surprise when I knocked on his door and was greeted with something that looked very similar to this.  

Photograph courtesy of the internet

Flash despite his appearance had a lovely nature, very friendly and placid, however, he  had a tendency to pull on his lead, I was a thin and wiry 10 year old I had to use both hands to control him, then I had an idea, I was going to put Flash to work. Back at my Grandma's house I would slip out of my clunky Clarks Polyveldts (my sister's cast-offs) and into a pair of roller boots, I would glide the streets and parks like Queen Boudicca in her canine drawn chariot laughing manically and yet slightly regal. I was once thrown out of a childrens' playground and was called a menace by the Parky. 

Today I heard Carmen talking excitedly to someone on the phone, she thinks I'm interested in French Bulldogs, talk about Chinese whispers, she's going to get a shock when I show her a picture of Flash II. 

The Log Whisperer

I've been on a quest to find myself a new hobby. I'm not into jigsaw puzzles, a friend of mine offered to teach me to knit, seriously! I'm far too young and vibrant to do such a thing, can you imagine? My next door neighbour was having work done to her garden, in the mid bleak winter because it's cheaper, when they had finished they'd left a thick branch in my garden, I was about to hurl it through my neighbours window when I heard the echoes of my inner voice reminding me I need a hobby, and then it hit me, whittling. I wonder if I could make something beautiful from it, an ornament or a bowl perhaps for the maid's birthday, with the help of a Youtube video I whittled a spoon sat in the garden, I felt like budget Barbara Hepworth, minus the headscarf. I was in my element.

                                                                            

                                                                      Here it is.

Well, at least it's spoon shaped and those splodges are my blood stains, after an hour, my whittling skills improved and the spoon began to take shape I also learnt if you cut against the grain, you get splinters that pierces the skin and I stabbed myself with the knife a few times too, nothing superglue can't fix. Sadly I gouged a bit too deep into the bowl of the spoon and came out the other side and ruined it.

 

Christmas Day Washout

I should have stayed at home... I should have stayed at home. That was the mantra going through my my mind on Christmas day (I hear what you're saying... moaning cow!). I should have known better when the maid suggested going away for Christmas and New Year to escape from "the rabble", instead I'm marooned here with the very definition of it. The weather has been crap, Christmas day was spent in the hotel room, couldn't go out, not without an umbrella. I ended up watching spanish television, So, My Grandma's A Lesbian with English subtitles (yes, that is an actual film) and Vera dubbed in Spanish. I couldn't watch the English channels as the bad weather kept interfering with the signal, it kept pixellating and losing sound. The maid is online, booking flights home, there's no way I'm staying here for a month. 

Hope you had a better Christmas.