Drug Drama

Our plane back from Turkey landed at midnight, it was after 3am by the time the taxi dropped us home and we sleep-walked the last few yards to our front gate so we only partially registered the sea of scattered rocks in the road outside our house.  

Waking in daylight, the view outside our bedroom was alarming. We live on a steep hill at a crossroads, the house opposite is considerably higher than us and a tall Scots Pine dominates the space in their little front garden. This massive tree is surrounded and supported by a chunky stone wall and is a much-loved feature of the neighbourhood. The downhill part of the supporting wall was now collapsed, stones, shrubs and earth spread over the road and pavement beneath, the tree looking very precarious.

Our next-door neighbour had seen the whole episode, he'd been at his upper window the day before when a car rocketed over from the road opposite, smashing into the wall with a force that rocked our houses. Two men in pink balaclavas were trying to get out of the front of the car and yelling to each other about 'getting the f***ing food'. The cars air bags had inflated which added comedy to the scene. People were coming out of their houses trying to offer help and the drama was further enhanced when a large gangster-looking chap strolled down the road from the direction the car had come, the balaclava boys clocked him and ran off in opposite directions. The big guy went to the car, took out bags of what must be assumed were the 'f***ing food' and headed back in the direction he came. 

My neighbour tells me that 'Food' is code for drugs - his interpretation of the scene is that the balaclava boys had stolen a car to pull a heist on our friendly neighboorhood drug baron and it had hadn't really worked out for them. It didn't work out for the poor guy whose car was stolen either, nor the tree, nor the people in the house with the tree.

PS: The  BBC tv comedy/drama series called Outlaws was filmed in our neighbourhood, we were quite grumpy about the disruption at the time but loved the series and seeing our house in the ariel shots.

Seems it's on Amazon now - here's a trailer

Turkey

After the queen's funeral, the Man and I took a holiday. We stayed in a sleepy town on the Turkish coast,  lodging with our friend Selma in the pension she runs with the help of her three daughters. 

The town is notable for having a mountain that has been perpetually on fire for ever - one can walk up a path at any time of night or day and come to an area where flames are burning out of holes in the rock. These flames are visible to boats on the sea. People thought it to be the breath of a Chimera - a fearsome snakey-goaty-lionish creature that lives inside the mountain. 

Every evening, large tour groups follow men with flags to see the flames, where they roast marshmallows, and drink beer at sunset.

We went to the flamey mountain before dawn, the route involves meandering uphill for a couple of kilometres, then a steep kilometre of increasingly impressive stone steps, it was still quite dark when we turned the corner and saw all the fires dancing on the rocks ahead of us, - and completely magical. A cat had followed us to the flames and we'd noticed bobbling headtorch lights much further up the mountain path but at that dawn moment we were just the three of us being in awe of the phenomenon.

Once the sun was up the debris left by the marshmallow revellers from previous evenings became apparent, the headtorch lights ahead had gone, there were now voices and then young people with backpacks.

The young people were Russians, Putin had announced a partial mobilisation a few days previously, it seems that few were prepared to fight his war, everyone knew what happened in Russia if you put up opposition and the young are trying to leave in their tens of thousands. These people told us about the limited options for ways out - most borders are closed, their homes were now abandoned and they didn't forsee that they could ever return - whatever might succeed Putin was not likely to be any better.

When we  returned to our pension we started noticing all the Russian cars and started meeting other young Russians, they had also backed what seemed like the only viable alternative - Navalny -  apparently now very weakened by continued torture in detention, there is little faith that he will be allowed to recover.

Our Queen died last month

Maybe it was the declining state of our Prime Ministers - thinking that things could get no worse after Boris, she then welcomed Ms Truss and decided that enough was enough. Either way we were all sad/reflective and a large heavy coffin was taken from Scotland to Windsor with a few stops on the way, the longest pause was in Westminster Hall, where the Queen lay in state for a week.

We were all mesmerised by that coffin, it was so big and heavy, she was tiny, birdlike - was she really inside? - and what was she wearing ... a crown, her best nightie, slippers..??? From my time in the funeral biz, I've dressed people in all manner of outfits (and none). Also people like to bring in things to be put in in the coffin with their loved ones, these have included toys, letters, dead cats and drugs.

MAria Maria

 

Soon after my last post Maria came to stay.   

 

Everything about Maria was twice life size - her hair, her smile ... and her suitcases. A dazzling array of outfits and accessories were stuffed into a massive heavy suitcase plus some smaller ones. The accessories included leather harnesses and belts and several pairs of clumpy footwear.  

She arrived at 1 am,  struggling to control her suitcase entourage. The biggest suitcase was a replacement for the one she had flown in with from Mexico, that first suitcase buckled under the strain during airport transfers, two cities later this new massive suitcase had lost a wheel and was visibly frayed around the edges.

In August temperatures were in the high 30s, Maria brought a double dose of sun in her smile and personality. Every single day she dressed like she was about to star in a musical and set off on a punishing tour of Bristol's cultural highlights, then came home to tell me all about it. By the time she left we had become mother and daughter and I suffered from empty-nest syndrome for the rest of the month. 

 

She did leave me a keepsake.

Maria bought a replacement  massive suitcase for the second broken massive suitcase, this one is currently languishing in our bike shed waiting for me to find someone to help me load it into a large car and take it to the dump.

Ice Man Feet

I'm at my favourite swimming place, eavesdropping as usual and this floats through

... he made the most delicious ice cream ....

my ears prick up and I intervene ..who, where???

Old Giorgio he was by the pier but it was really slow,  his ice cream was all at the other end, far from the counter and he'd shuffle backwards and forwards with one ice cream at a time, there was always a really long queue, he did so much walking he literally wore his feet out

 

I've missed July, here's a summation of that month

 

covid.feeling.ill

very.very.hot

covid.still.ill

make.paper.vegetables

even.more.hot.

cat.sit.london

plenty.cold.bath

dental.pain.owch

feel.better.festival

 

I've rediscovered What Three Words - the app that gives your location in three words - perfect.for.poetry

 

Jubilee Celebrations

precipitated a plethora of Jolly Events at the beginning of the month. Inhabitants of my parent's village show their love for all the queens by having a scarecrow competition.

This month I was a theatrical landlady, a doting daughter and a Cornish-cat sitter for one lazy cat and his lively sister. The lively one pissed on my bed the day I arrived and then decided that I was probably ok and spent the rest of my visit prancing around and testing my bath water.

 In my capacity as landlady, I hosted a wardrobe mistress from Singing in the Rain - thirty cast members  and they all get wet at the end -TWICE a day!!! That is a lot of dustbin-fulls of sodden clothing to lug upstairs to the laundry.

My Ma is in better spirits, I will post about our spot-the-queen walk next time

Monthism

He said: May is my favourite month  

I thought you liked September, September is definitely the best month

September's ok but May is better, although I like April even more and March is pretty good, I like June but not keen on July. I hate August, August can f**k right off, September's nice but October is better  

That's me told

My sister has been staying with our parents, Ma has been ill and the doctors say she has to increase her fluid intake, she phoned yesterday 

Your sister has been making me soup and all sorts of drinks, she made me one of those things where you whizz up all the fruit ... a what do you call it ... a selfie ... anyway I didn't like it and I don't want another one

There are Young Men in my house

 

They are on tour with the Lion King - a cause for huge excitement around here.   

Offstage man is slight and seemingly quiet, he nibbles on the edge of a pizza or takes little bit of ham sometimes, he has set up a keyboard in his room and before they set off for the theatre he belts out a show tune to set the mood

Onstage man eats like a carnivorous horse, cooking up huge quantities of chicken at midnight to power him through the next 24 hours, he tells me he undergoes 20 costume changes at each performance of which there are 9 per week.

Last week I was given a ticket so I could see where all that chicken gets spent

The performers come on and off stage at a dizzying rate wearing costumes that range from spray-on-almost-nothing to magnificent puppet-costumes with people balancing inside a towering construction on uneven stilts or bouncing around in lumpy body bags with spring-loaded heads. Sometimes a person will stroll across stage pushing a little animal-trolley like they're delivering in-flight drinks 

The finale consists of a triumphant parade, colourful paper birds swoop overhead as the animals assemble singing heartily, making it all look fun and easy. I can see my boy half-bent over inside a giraffe, his face framed by a circular hole in the animal's neck, the grin on his face looks like his life depends on it.

Modern Funeral

 

Last week I travelled to Staffordshire where I attended a funeral. I had met Uncle Lewis a couple of times in my life, both times very briefly. I knew almost nothing about this man but had the impression he'd been quite naughty in his time and was intrigued to hear what the memorial tribute would reveal about him. 

Uncle Lewis had arranged the disposal of his body with the Co-op, they let us know that his body was at the local store should anyone wish to go and visit him. 

Lewis's eldest nephew arranged the memorial service which was held in the boardroom of the assisted living complex where he had spent the last few years of his life. Guests were invited to get themselves a nice cup of tea and take a seat around the conference table. Several care staff were in attendance and a 'Room Safety Officer' who made sure that no more than 15 people were in the room, Lewis had had several domino chums and was popular with staff, I was there with some of my cousins and we soon exceeded the allowed number, latecomers had to peer in through the slightly opened glass doors.

The celebrant was a woman with a broad midlands accent, red lipstick and eyes sharply accented with black wings that pointed straight up to her eyebrows, she had discovered little about Lewis beyond a childhood near-drowning, some senior dominoes games and the fact that he liked to make his own bed. There was vague mention of travel and one precious memory offered by someone

he liked animals, he got butted in the back by a ram once and banged his face

Siberian wardrobe problems

 

I sat next to a woman who told me she was from Siberia

Two Siberian clichés crashed into my brain, I made a pinchy face, she was defensive

It is not just very cold it is also very hot,  we only have extremes, six months very hot, six months very cold and very great difference over one day - it can start at minus 20 degrees, then later in day zero degrees - so it really fucks with our blood pressure and people die from that, but really big problem in Siberia is that we love British trench coat - every woman has trench coat but weather is either for fur coat or little small top, there are precisely two days every year when  trench coat is acceptable so we all live with trench coat in wardrobe. 

This prompted me to think about an over-sized, new-but-vintage toffee-coloured cashmere coat I bought in a charity shop last year. I had to have it but it looked like I was wearing an actual wardrobe so I got it altered by an expensive tailor. As long as I wear it over a big chunky jumper, accessorised with substantial footwear and headwear it looks fantastic. Mimsy British weather is never cold enough for this outfit, obviously I must relocate . . . but Siberia . . . gulags, chilly . . .

My next post might be from Norway