Sarah

Why did I drive up to Leeds on a Friday evening? Well, I will tell you. It was to visit the Showcase Cinema De Lux in order to watch a film that came out in Great Britain this week - but not on general release. The film's title was "Zebra Girl". Opportunities to watch it in the north of England are currently few and far between.

What was it about this film that attracted me? Well - that's simple. The star of the show is one Sarah Roy who is our son Ian's girlfriend. They have been going steady for eight months now. Sarah and her team created the film before she hooked up with Ian. A lot of it was shot at her parents' second home in Kelso, Scotland.

I went to see "Zebra Girl" with an open mind and I must say that  it really held my attention. It is a quirky, psychological thriller in which the central character Catherine - played by Sarah is damaged, confused and dangerous  - possibly because of historical sexual abuse by her own father. It's pretty dark.

The film's title refers to a story that she created with her best friend Anita when she was a  little girl.

Sarah Roy as Catherine in "Zebra Girl"

There were many excellent cinematographic touches - often subtle, involving light and shade and intricate movement between different time periods in Catherine's tortured story.

Unfortunately, Shirley could not come along with me as she had to look after Little Phoebe. The heavenly babe's parents went out for dinner in a restaurant called "Turnip and Thyme" and enjoyed an excellent meal.

A sad reality about "Zebra Girl" is that not enough people will get to see it. As long time visitors to this blog may recall, I love a good film. However, I have seen a significant number that are not as well-crafted and engaging as Sarah's film appeared to be yesterday evening. My  trip to South Leeds was very worthwhile and I would like to publicly thank my trusty vehicle Clint for safely transporting  me.

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Peonies

 Peonies

And picnics

Wine and cheese

I’m ready 

For you

This weekend

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Path

Was it one path or a series of paths joined together? These path pictures are from the long walk I undertook yesterday after parking Clint in the village of South Hiendley which is just inside West Yorkshire - in the administrative district of Wakefield. The area was once blighted by coal tough conversely the hum of that mucky industry put money in people's pockets and pride in their hearts. It's all gone now. Even modern archaeologists might have trouble making sense of the vague and disconnected evidence left behind.

I could have shared other pictures of the scenes I observed along my route but in this blogpost I wanted to photo-illustrate the path itself. Until yesterday, our merry month of May here in Yorkshireland had been a big disappointment compared say with last May which was warm, dry and sunny as I recall. Yesterday the sun was out, peeping coyly from the gaps between drifting cumulus clouds, promising a much better spell of weather in the week ahead.

As you can see, the path took me  through fields of rapeseed and wheat. I walked by the disused Barnsley Canal and along old railway track beds connected with coal. Though not illustrated here, I walked by three reservoirs and through the tiny village of Wintersett where a gang of young men were making a long wooden fence at the side of the path. Mischievously, I asked them if they were "doing community service". It was a question that caused an outburst of mirth because that is a punishment frequently given to  lawbreakers.

As I walked this nine mile circle, following my chosen path, my mind drifted like the cumulus clouds above. Fragments of memory appeared and then faded  back. I thought through a couple of matters that have recently caused me concern though not in the logical manner of an Albert Einstein or a Stephen Hawking - more in the manner of a bumble bee flitting here and there, never settling for long.

Above,  American blog visitors may be interested to see a street of terraced homes once provided by the coal industry as cheap rental accommodation for mining families. This is in Havercroft. The English don't all live in Downton Abbeys or Buckingham Palaces you know.

I love the snowy whiteness of  hawthorn blossom and the fresh new greenness of the grass and foliage when the land is bathed in sunlight in late May. The path drew me onward, until the circle was  once again complete.

I was back on Chestnut Drive in South Hiendley where I asked Clint if he was ready for the long drive home.

"I suppose so," he muttered in his typically disgruntled tone.

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59

 I didn’t blog yesterday because blogger was playing up and wouldn’t allow me to download photographs.

We have had the wettest May on record this year, so  the unexpected sun had us all in the garden potting up plants and weeding the planters. 

I’m 59 in a few days time....

Now sometimes I feel a very old 59......and before the deserters start their usual “ Stop moaning I know a lot of people older than you you who feel vibrant and vital and young”

all I have to say to them is try wearing PPE for 12 hours in an non air conditioned environment and see how you feel as a burly support worker is peeling your white sweaty flesh from beneath blue plastic, figure hugging pinny.

12 hours in PPE makes even 25 year old nurses feel old .

Being 59 in gay years is neigh on being dead,

a phenomenon which thankfully doesn’t bother me too much as I am not particularly attracted to younger men. Unfortunately most of my fellow 59 year old gay men are attracted to younger specimens  so the chance of dating someone remotely sanguine and normal is somewhat limited.

I’m not particularly arsed about all that.

In 1984 my father was 59

He looked ten years old older than I do now, to be sure, but also be fair to him, he still ran a successful business full time, was a mason and a full time councillor with a chain of office and everything.

What he didn’t do was wear PPE on a hot day....by gum if he did that the heart attack that eventually killed him at 65 would have probably occurred a great deal sooner.

He chain smoked too, something I have never done

I can’t abide the smell of cigarettes 

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