Good evening in college, very productive .
Lots of work done
Came home and am happy at me moving my desk into the living room earlier.
It looks cool
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Ambit
Door to a subterranean reservoir
by Ringinglow Road
Frequently, my walks involve jumping into Clint's cockpit and driving north, south, east or west before the walk can commence. I am always seeking the thrill of new territory and new photo opportunities. However, today was different.
I left Clint in his resting place by our front bay window and set off from home. Along Gisborne Road to Dobbin Hill and then along Greystones Drive to Greystones Road before dropping down into The Porter Valley.
Previously unnoticed house
on Greystones Road
Sheffield has five rivers which in past centuries were all important to the development of metal-related industries. They provided water power. The River Porter is really just a stream and it runs for little more than five miles into the city centre.
Walking by The Porter up to the cafe at Forge Dam has become a required route for ramblers, families, cyclists and dog walkers. Everyone who lives in the S11 postal district is familiar with the route and during the worst times of COVID it was like a superhighway.
Whiteley Wood Road Bridge
over The River Porter
Waterfall in the upper reaches of The River Porter
I didn't stop at Forge Dam. Instead, I kept ascending the valley as the river became even narrower and more of a "V" shape close to the source of The Porter. Up to Fulwood Lane - thankfully on level ground and along to the tiny village of Ringinglow where I had already decided to treat myself to lunch and a couple of beers in "The Norfolk Arms".
As it was a very windy day, smoke from the pub's log fire was refusing to be drawn up through the chimney and some of it was hanging about in the bar room. I rather liked that old-fashioned aroma.
After lunch, I had a mile and half more to walk down to Bents Green and by that time internal alarm signals were telling me I needed to visit a toilet. I planned to nip into "The Hammer and Pincers" but it was closed for the afternoon. As luck would have it a No.88 Stagecoach bus appeared so I jumped on it and arrived home ten minutes later before experiencing that private magical relief that is familiar to all human beings. I won't go into details.
View over Sheffield's south western suburbs from Fulwood Lane
Bar at "The Norfolk Arms"
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Today
Regine
Be grateful
What you desire
Will come
Striving
Doesn’t cut it
Faith does
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Editing History and a Zombie Gay fairytale
All of us rewrite history
Ask my ex mother in law that one, she was a friggin expert on the subject..anyway
Yesterday I went to see The Fabelmans which has been hailed as Spielberg’s oh so personal homage to cinema and his upbringing.
I enjoyed it , with reservations
The reservations came from Spielberg’s need to re-edit and if not re write, reshoot those vital and cinematic moments that punctuate all of our lives when growing up.
As a small child we see Sam ( Steve) recreate the famous train crash from The Greatest Show On Earth as we are introduced to his Elf like mother Mitzi ( Michelle Williams) a former concert pianist who still protects her hands by not washing up a dish, and who chases a tornado with her children in the car.
She is this ethereal character who despite being incredibly selfish, and at times depressed is shown, in a rather affectionate spotlight and centre stage. Sam’s father (Paul Dano) is benign and sweet as the man who finally accepts that his best friend Uncle Benny ( a restrained Seth Rogen) is the true love of Mitzi’s life.
It is clear that Spielberg’s childhood was unconventional to say the least, so it would be forgivable for the audience to accept how his love of cinema helped rewrite and certainly re-edit reality .
Labelle ( right)
The trouble with the whole film is that certain parts are simply not true. I listened to Lauren Lavern’s detailed interview with Spielberg on Desert Island Discs last year, where Spielberg admitted that he didn’t speak to his father for many years, a fact not even eluded to in the movie.
When a film makes the point of re-editing reality, does not the final version feel all a bit sanitised ?
Perhaps that is what Spielberg was wanting to get across?
Having said all this Gabriel Labelle gave a gentle and intelligent performance as the 16 year old Spielberg and Michele Williams was incredibly moving and restrained as the rather lost Mitzi.
Bill and Frank in The Last Of Us
The Last Of Us is now on episode three on Sky Atlantic
This is a big budget, rather sprawling re working of a popular video game set in the zombie apocalypse where the undead sport feather like growths on their faces and where Joel ( Pedro Pascal) has to protect teenage Ellie ( Bella Ramsey) who is immune to the infection and who may be humanity’s only salvation .
It’s a bleak watch to be sure and until episode 3 ( shown last night) I wasn’t really happy with how things were going.
Last night the tables turned and we were introduced to two new characters Bill and Frank.( Nick Offerman and Murray Bartlet)
Bill, is a survivalist, the only character to remain in his tiny town of just a few streets. He had amassed a stockpile of weapons, gasoline, food and know how to fortify his home but after years of solitude is lonely as he enjoys the finer things in life which he can’t share. In one of his traps he captures the middle aged, garrulous Frank, the only survivor from a group from the city and suddenly the bleak zombie drama takes a severe right hand turn into a gentle and thoughtful character study about the love affair between two middle aged men.
It was quite, quite charming and wonderfully played by both actors who really made you believe that such an unlikely pair could make a go of things.
Wonderful and incredibly moving television
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Laughter
“ He has been with me for all of my life, so far, I’ve had no one as loyal or as long-standing in my life “
So did a patient describe her brother to me the other day.
It was a quote that lingered in my mind like a YouTube song
And is one that has a resonance for I got the quote as soon as it left the patient’s mouth.
I’ve mentioned it here on Going Gently a few times, that my childhood wasn’t a particularly happy one. Like many sixties and seventies kids , we were a product of our age…..emotionally absent parents but well looked after children, we had siblings and grandparents to nurture us, so we were the lucky ones.
But inside our own four walls things were often somewhat sad.
My patient shared a memory of her brother with me and told me of it’s significance. And over sixty years I thought of what one memory I could share that summed up my sisters’ and me.
I found one easily, perched happily in a cerebral cul de sac of childhood memories in 1972 or there abouts. Janet and I were around 10.
My sister Ann’s house One Saturday afternoon
I think we were making Christmas cards
Ann was singing badly. Singing the theme tune to a popular children’s magazine show at the time
And all I remember was laughter
Pure, unchecked, silly, belly laugh, laughter
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