Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Sunday, December 09, 2012

Hurrah for Heather!

Some critics have gone leaden footed to see the stage version of the film The Body guard and have ended up stomping in the aisles - thanks to this lady: Heather Headley
 
 
 

Saturday, December 08, 2012

Happy Birthday Thomas.


The end result for Naomi(side bar).  The November moustache has now gone and his smile restored:)
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Thursday, December 06, 2012

What Doesnt Kill You...


What doesn’t kill you…
 

‘I didn’t think about sex – I just did it.’  Jeanette Winterson was talking to Alan Yentob on Imagine BBC 1 Tuesday 10.35pm – My Monster and Me.

She was born in Manchester in 1959 to a woman who worked in a clothing factory.  As she was illegitimate her birth mother gave her up for adoption and her monster – Mrs Winterson - took her to live in the back streets of Accrington, a soot-smutted Lancashire town just over the moors from my own home town.

 Jeanette wrote an award winning book Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit when she was 26 which tells of her extraordinary childhood.  The monster was her adoptive mother – an evangelical Christian and Jeanette was meant to be a missionary.  She was ruled with a rod of iron – Mrs Winterson kept a revolver in the kitchen - and was frequently told the devil had led Mrs Winterson to the wrong crib.

 Rejected by two mothers (she regards the writer Ruth Rendell as her third mother) Jeanette found relief in books.  She demonstrated to Yentob how when she was pushed out of the front door she would curl up on the step. She said it was quite comfortable, sheltered from the rain and she could escape into her imagination.

 Books transformed her life; she would hide them under the mattress – they were her ‘flying carpet ‘to get away from her dreary surroundings.  She worked her way through the alphabet at the local library.

 Mrs Winterson threw her out aged 16 when her attempts to exorcise Jeanette’s homosexuality failed.  She lived in a borrowed Mini for two months and illustrated to Yentob how she kept things respectable by using the driver’s seat as an office – the large steering wheel as a book rest, the passenger seat as a dining room (never slide across –  always go out of the drivers door and in via the passenger door) and the bedroom was the back seat with the boot as a wardrobe.

 Somehow she got to Oxford University and loved the ‘five floors of books’, the beautiful town, the acquisition of knowledge and like minded friends.  Whilst at Oxford she asked Mrs Winterson if she could take a friend home and surprisingly was allowed.  The friend was of mixed race and Mrs Winterson provided lots of tins of pineapple and copious duvets on the bed because ‘they feel the cold’.

When the revolver appeared on the kitchen table Jeanette knew it was time to leave and was estranged from her adoptive mother until her death.

 Jeanette had many affairs both in England and Paris.  She said she always felt most lonely when she was in a relationship.  When a six year relationship broke up she felt she was going mad.  Her friends knew she was in a dark place but didn’t know how to help her.  She tried to kill herself in her car in the garage - unaware that her cat was with her and when she fell to the floor the cat scratched at her face until she got up and opened the doors.  She said she would never be in that place again.  This was a new beginning.  Oddly as she was relating this to Yentob there was a movement on the darkened screen and one could just make out a cat moving to sit by her.

 Now it was to be a fresh start and she determined to find her birth mother with the help of Susie Orbach.  Eventually she did find her.

 The programme visited Paris where Jeanette had found succour in the shop Shakespeare and Co, renowned for harbouring writers sometimes for years.
There she found loving friendship, was fed and looked after although they had no idea of what she was going through at the time

 When Mrs Winterson died Jeanette didn’t attend the funeral but sent flowers in the shape of a dog.  The film ends with her visiting Mrs Winterson’s grave along with Yentob.  As she said her mother was a monster – but she was her monster.  Finally – left alone with her thoughts she suddenly steals a bunch of white flowers from the next grave and put’s them on Mrs Winterson’s grave.

 As soon as the programme was over there was a footnote to say the flowers were immediately restored to their rightful place.

Jeanette’s memoir is Why be Happy When you could be Normal?

My next read I think, to fill in the gaps.

 

 

 

 

Jeanette Winterson


Jeanette Winterson OBE
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Tuesday, December 04, 2012

But when I got there the cupboard was bare.


So I'm sharing this photo of a Scruffy Buzzard (no offence Kim) aka Kim Ayres, ace photographer and ace blogger.
Most of you know him but if you don't visit his blog  http://kimayres.blogspot.com or click on Kim on side bar.  Although Kim is younger than our sons he is someone whose guidance I have asked for in the past - need I say more.
He also plays a mean game of Scrabble.
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Saturday, December 01, 2012