The Orphanage

Went to the cinema to see The Orphanage, thoroughly enjoyed this film, didn`t disappoint after loving Pan`s Labyrinth I`d thought it would be a hard act to follow. As I am short in stature, I always sit at the front to avoid taller people blocking my view, only trouble is, everyone in the cinema can see me jump at the scary bits. The way it is shot is superb with some really scary, jump out of your seat moments, doors clashing, things creeping up on you and delayed discovery scenes where you know something is going to leap out.

Afterwards we go to the Rose and Crown, first time I`ve been in there, friendly old man`s pub. Then we moved on down the Groat Market. We get back home pretty late, I put the tumble dryer on while I`m on the computer checking e mails. D has fallen asleep, he jolts awake and shouts

"What`s that helicopter doing?"

Meet D at Laboca,her cat came home after a night on the tiles, it`s head covered in oil, she tried to get the marks off with watered down washing liquid. A friend of her husband`s sent her a text "Would you like me to call around to get the mark off your pussy!" On the subject of animals, she knows a woman who owns one of those furless tiny dogs, it`s called Coco Chacha, but their surname is Bell, it didn`t quite go, so now it`s called Coco Chacha Labelle, it fits in her handbag. Then an old woman who she knows has owned a series of budgies over her lifetime, they were all called Billy (Surname Shay), she has lots of little graves in her garden Billy Shay 1st, Billy Shay 2nd etc.

I ask B if I can take a photo of him for my blog, he obliges, true to character, up for a laugh, and poses with his cake covers, brilliant.

As husband D was off work on Tuesday I met up with him after leaving friend D. We go to the Metro Centre, stop off at Subway for a fabulous honey mustard chicken sandwich, I am just about to sink my teeth into it, when a young couple sit down, the lad has his back to me, he is quite portly and is wearing hipster jeans, I can see nearly all of his backside, not pretty, that`s the second scary sight this week.

"1p for a hover and 2p for a sit"

I`m on the bus going to town, an old fella with silver hair is on the seat in front, there`s a money spider merrily making a web across the strands in a triangle shape from the top of his head to a stray hair behind his ear. 20 minutes into the journey, I can`t take my eyes from the busy little creature, he moves his hand to scratch his head, and I have to stop myself from shouting "No!" He doesn`t harm Incy, my mobile rings and its friend D, she`s heading for B`s cafe. When I look back to check the progress of the web, spidys gone, oh, no.... then crawling around on the crown, I spy him, he`s abandoned his work, then it`s time to alight, I`m not destined to know the outcome of his fate, if he manages to hold on till the old fella goes to bed, he could be pancake.

At Laboca, D is looking forward to her holiday near the Zambeze River, they will be visiting a private game reserve, she informs me that they will have to be up and ready by 5.00am and asks

"Can`t we go somewhere where the animals have a lie in?"

She asks how our parrot Chico is doing, I tell her that he can now copy my husband`s snoring, farting and the signature tune to Coronation Street.

The book club members arrive, it is S`s Alabastar wedding anniversary, 37 years. We have been married 35 years, but I haven`t a clue what that is. Our new book is The Story of My Father by Sue Miller. I visit the toilet, B hammers on the door and shouts

" Hoy, you haven`t paid, I want 1p for a hover and 2p for a sit."

I sample B`s delicious home made soup, we ask eachother questions about the last book My Sister`s Keeper and discuss the ethics of designer babies, ones that are specifically conceived to maintain the health of a sick sibling, and also stem cell research. C is feeling groggy and feels as though she is aboard a ship, we offer to take the books back for her afterwards. D visits the toilet before we leave and B ushers all of us out and pulls down the shutters to the cafe to give her a fright.

We go on to meet another friend at the Centurion, have another coffee, until 6.20 when we carry on to the Lit and Phil for the open mic session. I read some of my poems and we hear a great selection from other members, a fabulous old mariner called Jack Paperman is reading his poems of the sea, what a character, I hope that he comes back. I told him that my Grandfather had been a mariner also, sailing from Falmouth in 1901 aboard the SS Waft, he is going to look through his records. I imagine that he would have a house full of collections.

On the bus coming back home, there are two drunks (At 8.30pm!!!!!! only in Newcastle) both are having conversations very loudly on their mobiles, one of them is saying f*** alot and the other is repeating each word he says about 6 times very rapidly " He`s a scaffolder, a scaffolder, is he a scaffolder man, I`m sure he`s a scaffolder, Duncan, he`s called Duncan, Duncan man, yeah, Duncan, he`s a scaffolder." As I get up to leave the bus I notice that they are actually twin brothers, they finish their conversations together then start talking to eachother, It`s a wonder to me how they don`t knock eachother out with the fumes.

I`m just in time to watch the programme on Stephen Wiltshire using pen and ink to create the London landscape, I saw him on TV when he was a child, he loved to sketch buildings then, but he has moved on to lithographs, oils, pastels, different mediums and shows work in his own gallery. He is autistic and has to have his meals etc at set times, he reminded me of my Dad who had Aspergers, he died 2 years ago this May, what a character he was, always collecting things and inventing new contraptions, I`m sure that he would have been interested in this programme, his favourites were Countdown and anything on animals or the second world war.

This photo shows some of his mates, either looking fed up or miserable, which you would expect, but Dad loved the regimental nature of the army Mam always used to say

"Look at the way he lines everything up on the table like a regiment of soldiers"

He admitted to me when he was 80 that my Nana used to send him letters from home, none of which he ever read, I wonder what his fellow soldiers made of that, they must have depended on letters from home to get them through the horrors they must have witnessed, and in a way, Dad`s syndrome would have been some kind of shield to what was going on around him. He spoke of his van, which he loved to ride around in when he was in Hanover, Oh what a lovely war.

Comedians

Watched a documentary on Ken Dodd, the comedian, a group of pensionable aged women surround him asking for autographs. One of them hands him a piece of paper.
Ken. "What`s your name dear?"
Woman: "Eileen."
Ken. "Do you lean to the left or to the right?"

Without a flicker of recognition that this is indeed a joke, she answers "To the left."


The carpets need hovering, where once we were plagued by dog hairs, now we have feathers and discarded seed husks. Terry Pratchett, the author has the right idea, he has these little dinner plate like remote control hoovers which beetle in and around the furniture in his magnificent house as he sits in front of six computer screens. He`s just recently been diagnosed with Alzheimers disease, which is devastating for such a brilliant mind. When my youngest son P was at middle school and well into games workshops and fantasy figures, which he used to paint, orc like creatures which cost a fortune. Both G and P spent time playing with Castle Greyskull and Star Wars figures, everything went into the loft, the Millenium Falcon, Rebel Star ship, along with darth Vader and the rest of them. We were holding a boot sale one Sunday, and the pair of them retrieved their booty from the loft and sold it all at ridiculously low prices. Years later when P moved away from Newcastle, we went to a science fiction convention and were gutted to see the prices of the self same paraphernalia.

Anything else of value in the loft has long since been sold, due to the discovery of ebay by eldest son G. He soon latched on to the fact that the two Snoopy watches, (original price around £3.50 each) were now worth £18.50 each, so promptly sold both his own and his brother`s. We know when he has been into the loft because the ladders are always left out under the hatch, he never tidies anything away.

I meet friend D at Laboca Art Cafe, B is there to greet us, when he finds out that I now own an African Grey parrot, he jokes

"Well, it`s a good job that you haven`t got a cock-or-two"

Two diners are about to leave, he asks the man

B "Is that your pencil, you`ve left on the table...you haven`t got much lead in it have you?"
Man "Oh thankyou." picking the pencil up and putting it in his pocket.
B "See you again...pencil it in"

This reminds me of a programme on past times, The Way we were. A little lad wearing short pants and a short back and sides haircut, is crouched down on the pavement, he has chalked the words Follow this Line. He trawls around the school yard drawing this line, and at the end, has written If you followed this, your daft by, how things have changed, some of todays kids would be too busy scoring up in the toilets.

A book launch at the local Lit and Phil for three crime writers Chaz Brenchley (Local lad), Cath Stainecliffe (Blue Murder) and Margaret Murphy. K,S,D and me were dishing out the programmes, raffle, free pens, quiz and wine and nibbles. S had also made a lovely punch. The event was well attended and very interesting with an opportunity for questions from the crowd.
One of S`s friends was an Eileen, someone she had worked with a while back. As I listened to these three charmed individuals, I asked the question "Which book do you wish that you had written?" none of them gave an author, but they all said that there were styles and phrases that they were envious of. So, it gives the rest of us a little hope to know that even the hugely talented still have their jealousies. Heard a joke the other day,

How many authors does it take to change a light bulb?
13......1 to change it and another 12 to say, I should be up there.

I look out of the window, and my eye is irritatingly drawn to the bright red rope holding the fence up onto the tree, then I notice that D has been out with a piece of wood and nailed it from the fence to the tree "For extra support" It`s snowing, and I just know that no DIY will be done this week again, well, I suppose it gives friends and neighbours a laugh.