I need to preface this anecdote - I am not anti-wife - Some of my best friends are wives and some very happily married. I'm also not anti-husband - ditto re friends and happy marriages...But I guess there is a type of husband/wife combination that is almost Controlling mother/Naughty child. I know enough to know this combination rather suits the men in the relationship - I've met enough of them - The would-be adventurers who sigh 'If only...', while manipulating the wife to take control. And of course there are women who also enjoy this particular setup. End of preface.

Today I was wandering around Tesco's looking for Chinese veg for some stirfries and some bits and pieces not available in my local shops. I am an ordinary-looking overweight woman in my fifties - hardly racy looking or that alternative. I have no problems with self-esteem, but am realistic and OK about this.

So what intirgues me is why the obviously married man guarding the trolly while wife is scouring shelves decides to sigh, catch my eye and wonder aloud what might be happening with the match! Because somehow I suspect I seemed obviously a natural conspiritor/fellow naughty child despite being a woman shopping in Tesco's.

And because somehow, despite my suspicion that his wife is more hard done by than him, he made me giggle and I got caught up and then every time our paths crossed I got the rolling eyes and sighs...

This is not an unusual sort of experience. My lover has noticed I get a certain type of 'look'from some men, and he says there is something 'unwifely' about me! I do wonder about hidden 'mistress-types'. I'm no obvious 'vamp', and have never been a mistress until I fell for my curent lover.

I do have a theory about some naughty-child type husbands though. I think they enjoy the security of marriage but like the fantasy of taming/capturing/seducing/f**king independent non-wife women. When single and in relationships I have been aware of how 'easy' (and shameless!)a certain type of married man is...

Today I had a lovely day with my Lover. Unlike yesterday we had 'circumstances' so were well behaved and frightened neither children, nor horses: the duck nor the donkeys! We had visit to the library (mistresshood is a real roller-coaster!) where I bought Sue Townsend's autobiog for 20p, then lunch in a cafe nearby and a wander through Morriston.
We then drove out to a reservoir on the outskirts of Swansea. It was blowy, but sunny and very pleasant. We had a cuppa and went for a walk. There were donkeys in a nearby field and a duck landed on reservoir, but like the sheep and fishermen, seemed unperturbed by us. We walked partly around the reservoir and stoped at a bench and the sun beat down and was just delightful. We strolled back to car and drove back to town and parted.
Sometimes it's just nice to 'be'...

I told you so!

Long live radishes, pictureframes and wellies! I have succeeded in sabotaging the tags!
As Nutshell would say - It's a change from mental health!

...That's it really...

Today my lover and I had lunch in local pub. There was a group of locals as there often is. Today's group however were loud and there was no-one else but them and us. We were in higher section of lounge, so sat down we were invisible to one another, although we knew the others were there. At first they seemed funny. Lots of swearing and a woman in her sixties threatening what she'd do if she saw woman who had apparently been talking about her. And then it was the lottery, snooker and the TV plus vlgarity. at first it was amusing - Eastenders for real. But it became depressing. And I realised these were the sort of people who as children had hit me for going to another school and 'talking funny'.
I can see this can make me sound a terrible snob. Perhaps I am, but I don't think so. My roots are working class and I have great affection for much of my upbringing and I have been given some wonderful values. I also understand about varied life chances. But there is something depressing about someone being sat in the pub hoping a woman older than herself will raise her fist so she has excuse to hit her...I guess some of us don't leave the playground.

although our relationship is still at stage where the physical is somewhat a preoccupation we both love civilised rituals. When my lover visits I like to make proper coffee and we sit and take tea and coffee and eat cake while we reconnect. Watching the seasons through the French windows and listening to the birds is very grounding somehow. I also like us eating together and enjoy the ritual of cooking and sitting down for a meal. When not in the mood, something from the chippy goes down equally well, as do meals out together.

Just had a lovely few hours with my lover. It was a little weird because of separation and he's ben spending time with daughter and son-in-law. We are always eager to see each other after a break, but reconnecting can seem strange.

I was amazed that two tags of 'pathetic fallacy' got into top tags, so thought an experiment would be fun. I'm going to tag radishes, pictureframes and wellies and see what happens...

I'm pleased, but very confused. I appear to have 'caused' a top tag with only two entries on subject of 'pathetic fallacy' How can two tags be among the 'top'? I have wondered how some somewhat obscure or personal-sounding tags get there - Now I can see how!

Not only is my lover away, but Eddie Mair isn't on PM! I think I need a cup of tea...

Just heard a lovely piece on R4 news re Paul Robeson's connection with Wales. Not sure what put it in news today, but I did know about mutual support between Robeson and the miners in Wales. There's a famous recording from 50's where he sent his support to Wales:

The American singer and civil rights campaigner speaks to the Miners' Eisteddfod, Porthcawl
Paul Robeson (1898 to 1976) knew Wales well; he toured South Wales in the 1930s, performing concerts at Aberdare and Mountain Ash. He captured the sympathy of the miners of Wales when he sang in Jack Jones 1939 film Proud Valley with Rachel Thomas, as the character David Goliath. In 1950, when he refused to admit or deny that he was a communist, the US State department denied him a passport. But his connection with Wales continued. To address the Miners' Eisteddfod in Porthcawl in 1957, he spoke to via a transatlantic link to the miners' leader Will Paynter

...And Happy Shakespeare's Day as well!

...and I'm hungry! Before my lover and I got together in carnality, I joked that I couldn't be a French tragic heroine - I'm quite good at wafting and sighing, but too 'solid' and earthy, despite missing him when apart
Oh! have I mentioned I'm a bit bored and unsettled today? Hooked on blogging? Me?!
Off to make a very solid meal...
P
xx
ps I know these ads keep changing, but one on my 'preview' of post informed me that Jesus loves me...Aaaaahhhh...I think Jesus seemed quite a nice person too....

Help! Cardiff has gone from dull to positively dark!!!

Sometimes I just miss him...
Communication and the wonders of email are mixed blessings

sometimes I get the feeling I just want to be around you, don't want to do anything in particular, just be around you, if that makes sense........today is such a day.

Oh I know the feeling!!! I just want to read you bits of the paper, comment on the garden, listen to radio or even ignore you - but just have you there... It's a bit of a challenge, because I'm still awfully keen on getting maximum [deleted to save my blushes and readers' sensibilities], but I so enjoy being 'mundane' together. And I want to take you places and see them together, but time is so precious. I long to have weekends and evenings of happily doing nothing in each other's company.

The peacefulness of my weekend is wearing thin as I start to miss you in advance as it were. Lots of stuff I could be doing, but somehow they pall.

Once again Cardiff is whitish grey and while not threatening, just dull...Definitely pathetic fallacy as the ennui sets in!

i though it would be fun to do another wordcloud and see if it is a fair representation of where I am now.
http://www.snapshirts.com/

Nice to see much similarity, but amused at no longer being open, original and passive
Also pleased to see friends' names and chocolate getting some prominence
And common sense prevailing is all very well, but not sure about sex being overtaken by time and stuff
Scream and Shout?! Me?!:b

Nutshell's comments on Lawrence's dialect reminded me that I've been meaning to look up this poem, since trying to explain it to my lover after discussion on masculinity and 'Women in Love'. I think this poem sums up Lawrence's feelings on sex far better than his novels. I always want to take a red pencil to his stuff but really enjoy nuggets. I am also happy not to be a 'real woman' as per Lady Chat, but that's another story...

Tortoise Shout

I thought he was dumb, said he was dumb,
Yet I've heard him cry.
First faint scream,
Out of life's unfathomable dawn,
Far off, so far, like a madness, under the horizon's dawning rim,
Far, far off, far scream.
Tortoise in extremis.
Why were we crucified into sex?
Why were we not left rounded off, and finished in ourselves,
As we began,
As he certainly began, so perfectly alone?

A far, was-it-audible scream,
Or did it sound on the plasm direct?

Worse than the cry of the new-born,
A scream,
A yell,
A shout,
A paean,
A death-agony,
A birth-cry,
A submission,
All tiny, tiny, far away, reptile under the first dawn.

War-cry, triumph, acute-delight, death-scream reptilian,
Why was the veil torn?
The silken shriek of the soul's torn membrane?
The male soul's membrane
Torn with a shriek half music, half horror.

Crucifixion.
Male tortoise, cleaving behind the hovel-wall of that dense female,
Mounted and tense, spread-eagle, out-reaching out of the shell
In tortoise-nakedness,

Long neck, and long vulnerable limbs extruded, spreadeagle over her house-roof,
And the deep, secret, all-penetrating tail curved beneath her walls,
Reaching and gripping tense, more reaching anguish in uttermost tension
Till suddenly, in the spasm of coition, tupping like a jerking leap, and oh!
Opening its clenched face from his outstretched neck
And giving that fragile yell, that scream,
Super-audible,
From his pink, cleft, old-man's mouth,
Giving up the ghost,
Or screaming in Pentecost, receiving the ghost.

His scream, and his moment's subsidence,
The moment of eternal silence,
Yet unreleased, and after the moment, the sudden, startling jerk of coition, and at once
The inexpressible faint yell --
And so on, till the last plasm of my body was melted back
To the primeval rudiments of life, and the secret.

So he tups, and screams
Time after time that frail, torn scream
After each jerk, the longish interval,
The tortoise eternity,
Age-long, reptilian persistence,
Heart-throb, slow heart-throb, persistent for the next spasm.

I remember, when I was a boy,
I heard the scream of a frog, which was caught with his foot in the mouth of an up-starting snake;
I remember when I first heard bull-frogs break into sound in the spring;
I remember hearing a wild goose out of the throat of night
Cry loudly, beyond the lake of waters;
I remember the first time, out of a bush in the darkness, a nightingale's piercing cries and gurgles startled the depths of my soul;
I remember the scream of a rabbit as I went through a wood at midnight;
I remember the heifer in her heat, blorting and blorting through the hours, persistent and irrepressible,
I remember my first terror hearing the howl of weird, amorous cats;
I remember the scream of a terrified, injured horse, the sheet-lightning,
And running away from the sound of a woman in labour, something like an owl whooing,
And listening inwardly to the first bleat of a lamb,
The first wail of an infant,
And my mother singing to herself,
And the first tenor singing of the passionate throat of a young collier, who has long since drunk himself to death,
The first elements of foreign speech
On wild dark lips.

And more than all these,
And less than all these,
This last,
Strange, faint coition yell
Of the male tortoise at extremity,
Tiny from under the very edge of the farthest far-off horizon of life.

The cross,
The wheel on which our silence first is broken,
Sex, which breaks up our integrity, our single inviolability, our deep silence,
Tearing a cry from us.

Sex, which breaks us into voice, sets us calling across the deeps, calling, calling for the complement,
Singing, and calling, and singing again, being answered, having found.

Torn, to become whole again, after long seeking for what is lost,
The same cry from the tortoise as from Christ, the Osiris-cry of abandonment,
That which is whole, torn asunder,
That which is in part, finding its whole again throughout the universe.

:D feeling a lot more cheerful and positive today. I've been working and managed to get stuff done. Had good meeting with my boss and have interesting projects to work on.

Weather in Cardiff very grey, drizzly and miserable. The Welsh word for miserable (people and weather is 'diflas'(deev/lass). I think it's great. It can be said with relish and a snarl

I, however, am positive and cheerful, despite my apathy yesterday. I am seeing my lover on Friday, but determinedly not wishing my life away!

I had very worthy holiday weekend. Cooked Easter lunch for my Mum, siblings and sister's flatmate and did usual family stuff. I'd even done some housework so house wouldn't be total embarrassment

Worked Sunday night, then went to Mum's and helped keep my sister sane on Monday.

I was looking forward to a bank holiday in lieu type day today of pottering and looking after myself. My lover and I have (as usual) managed to exchange several emails a day and we know we're in each other's thoughts.

I had intended to do some sorting, but decided I didn't have to, if not in mood. I've dismantled one pile of 'to be sorted/pending' stuff and done my laundry. I also sorted the 'chocolate mountain' in my pantry.:D I've now got rid of outdated stuff so only have one large biscuit tin of choc bars left if I don't count chocs in dining room, or the Mars bars in the fridge, or the biscuits... To understand a choc mountain I suggest a visit to the original 'Fat is a Feminist Issue'.

My nice day somehow didn't measure up though, and while not actively miserable I'm passively blue if that makes sense... Sometimes I just miss him...

He had day with family in town we often visit, so he's had odd day too.

I don't usually post news stories, but this astounded me. I heard news on radio and was then sent link by a friend
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/south_yorkshire/4918538.stm

The woman's comment that somehow hospital should have stopped him is the thing I found at first astonishing. And then realised it was another example of people expecting others to take responsibility for individuals' own stupidity and/or weaknesses....

"In my dirt is my strength" - The latest deep and meaningful pronouncement from my sister!

My sister and I have lots in common, but lots of huge differences. Like the character in the 'Hithchhiker's Guide' series, I could spend most of my life in the bath. Now I know my sister doesn't share my enthusiasm, but I hadn't realised the strength of her antipathy towards them.

We made one of those weird sisterly pacts. She gardened heroically for hours and I sat around watching her, moaning about the cold and passing her a plant or trowel or something every now and then. In return she was going to loll around with a glass of wine while I painted my bathroom.

It made sense for her to have her bath at my place as she wasn't up to going out after bathing. The deal was I'd take her home afterwards. After her bath she collapsed in a pathetic heap needing to 'recover' from her bath. I was somewhat confused - Surely there is nothing better than a bath after gardening? While acknowledging the need to conform to some social norms, my sister declare that it was a bit like Samson and the hair and that "in her dirt is her strength"!

We decided she is a throwback and would be better as an Innuit or Stone-ager who would just sew themselves up in skins and blubber for the season. Her other theory is that she might be more Neanderthal,that Homo Sapien, but then we weren't sure how to explain me...

I bathe at least daily because I like baths. I'd actually got up at about 3a.m. that morning for a bath because I was a bit cold and ache-y. She looked at me as if I was mad and said she'd have got another blanket, and said "You have to keep dry.."

I finished my painting, got her home and decided as I was still up I might as well do my shopping so Went to Tesco's about 2 a.m. And then went home to a lovely bath in my nicely painted bathroom and so to bed!

I've decided true friendship is when your friends can stand you up! A female friend said she really wanted to see me, but was having heavy week with family, other friends etc and had someone coming to stay from London. I guess close friends in same city have flexibility and being 'dropped' is no big deal. Then my best male friend stood me up for opportunity to be with his partner. Again made sense as they have limited time together.
I think my friends must really like me...On the other hand there could be something they're not telling me and I'm delusional...

My lover joined me after I'd done a nightshift. It's lovely having him creep in my bed when I'm all sleepy.
I'd left out tea and coffee stuff so we could have a civilised start to our time together.
Having checked I was awake, despite my sleepiness and imperfect sense of time he seemed rather a long time, so I asked if something had delayed him and he 'fessed up! He'd run over my hall and kitchen with my new polishing mop thingy!:D
I knew there was a reason for buying this stuff But it was so sweet...
I guess one of the advantages of being a bit(bit)slipshod is I'm very grateful for such kind thoughts.

EU Medley for Radio 4...
by pollygarter @ Saturday, Apr. 01, 2006 - 11:15:05

...OK...Is this an April Fools' Day thing or are they really going to do it? Sounded plausible, but timing made me wonder...
It will of course be hard to ever beat the spaghetti tree
ps I like splitting ifinitives

I was right! heard announcement at end of 'Today'! Apparently Middle England have become very hot under the collar about it all...