Thursday, 29 May 2014

In The Street & Bastard Arrives

My favourite photo of vintage Trelawnyd
The junior football team in the school field in the 1940s
Three of the team still live in the village

Suddenly, you will notice something important and it will stop you in your tracks.
The other day, when I was out delivering eggs, I walked down chapel street next to the Memorial Hall and was confronted by affable despot Jason's two little girls out on their bikes.
As usual they waved , showed off the tassels on the their handlebars  and made a fuss of the dogs before being joined by two slightly older children out on their bikes.
The four of them scooted back and forth down the small lane,a lane which is not even a hundred yards long.
I spied Jason by his gate, he was watching over his girls.
He puffed out his cheeks as if to say, it was hard work keeping a Vigil over the kiddies and as the girls weaved their merry way back and forth on Chapel Street , I suddenly thought how rare a sight it is to see children in the street anymore.
" it feels like a proper village" I called over.
And I meant it
Jason's recollections of the incident, seem to be quite different
I was peacefully sat there watching the Marsh Warblers swooping in my neighbours undercroft, gaily listening to the " hits from the blitz" album I bought at aunt fannies table sale ....the children were playing conkers on the road and suddenly he just launched at me ....terrified I was ....terrified I tell ya
anyway speaking of bastards

This little psychopath has suddenly appeared on the field this morning. Not seven inches high, and as full as much bile as a UKIP EMP he has ran around the Ukrainian village karate kicking everything in sight.
Bugger alone knows where he has come from


I caught the little bastard briefly after he was effectively held down by one of he geese, but he caught me a stabbing blow on the outer edge of my wrist with one of his spurs, a stab that had arterial blood spurting in a sweet little arc over my head.
I am presently typing this with a tea towel wrapped around my hand, my feet raised up on a cushion and with a large mug of sweet tea to hand.

57 comments:

  1. Plenty of kids roaming free around our village, and not all of them dealing in drugs... some just offer to stand watch over my car for a mere five quid while saying, "You wouldn't want a knife in a tyre now Andrew, would you?", while spinning a shiny metal something in their hand. Ah... the rural idyll... Still, Big Hugh's massive Alsation bitch scares them off when it breaks free over the fence, again.

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    1. I think I prefer my perspective andrew..... It may not be accurate....but it represents my ideal world 's view

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    2. Mine may not be accurate either. I think the truth may lie somewhere in between. It generally does.

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    3. I still prefer mine!

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  2. " It feels like a proper village" I called over.
    And I meant it
    Jason the Despot grimaced and then yelled back, "What are ye talkin' about ye daft bugger!"
    Annoyed, I narched over to the gate and confronted him.
    When the girls came tootling back up the lane they found us wrestling on the ground.
    "Geroff! Geroff me!" Jason the Despot was whining but I showed no mercy and as a parting shot crunched his nose with my left fist.

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    Replies
    1. This will, no doubt, set the affable despot into action yp

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  3. Cynics ... all of you pure out and out cynics. Village life in rural Wales is lovely. I just wished I lived in a village :-)

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  4. an ideal world WOULD be your vision; the reality is extremely sinister.

    I remember having handlebar tassels on my small bike (1960s).

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    1. I once had handlebar tassels tied to my bike too, but they were tied there by the big bad boys who said I was a cissy.

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    2. Nothing wrong with that!

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  5. How very true & such a great shame.

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  6. Children play in the virtual world now, tucked inside their rooms with tablets as their friends.

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  7. We still see plenty of kids about in our small town. Yes, they play some on their electronic devices, but they get booted off them to go outside and, gasp! They even turn them off themselves! Life isn't quite as grim as it is made out to be for this generation of children.

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  8. i recently visited a country town with my teen girls, i was caught up in a shop and the girls were riding skateboards on the footpath. i was horrified that they might be frightening frail old ladies but apparently people were grinning all over at them.
    there is an awful lot of nostalgia for dangerously active kids :)

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  9. come on you lot kids do still play out in the street on bikes etc in small towns and villages where the cars cannot get it is us grown ups who stop it with speeding cars and winging about ball going into gardens

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  10. I notice that in the subdivision that I live in I see a lot of kids out playing when the weather gets warmer but they really don't leave the vicinity of their driveway unless accompanied by the parents. It's a different day and time it seems.

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  11. I was peacefully sat there watching the Marsh Warblers swooping in my neighbours undercroft, gaily listening to the " hits from the blitz" album I bought at aunt fannies table sale ....the children were playing conkers on the road and suddenly he just launched at me ....terrified I was ....terrified I tell ya

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    1. Ha ha….brilliant!

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    2. I was waiting for that

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    3. My version is more colourful.....

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    4. You forgot to add that Claire was busy knitting a mop hat on the doorstep

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    5. She was indeed .....her chores that day were plentiful ...she then went on to make some jam and thereafter walked to a Rhyl to collect the weekly ration allowance whilst I spent the remainder of the day whistling ....." Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag " I believe it was ....

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    6. Did Gladys come around with a basket of her delicious scones?

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    7. Yes ....and we had lashings of home made lemonade with Mr Bun, the local baker and raconteur

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    8. My last short email stands

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    9. or did you mean a hat for a mop?
      kiss

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  12. I agree with you, John. Urban living has a lot to not recommend it.

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  13. The boy second from left has a very interesting jacket. I right wee fashionista.

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    1. He lives just around the corner from me.... I'll tell him that, cro when I see him

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  14. Give me rural life any day :-) Although the other half needs a 'fix' of pavements from time to time.

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  15. Kids were actually outside and enjoying themselves, John? I know there are a few kids around my rural area......at least that is what I have been told.

    So has the 'bastard' returned to your 'village'? Or has he lived his last karate-kicking escapade?

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    1. After putting some thick gloves on, he is now caught and imprisoned in a spare hen house until I figure what to do with him

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    2. My granny was famous for wringing the neck of any troublesome Cock... Get on with it man!

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    3. Jaysus H Christ ! What a reputation to have !!

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    4. She was a dirty old trollop

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  16. I guess living a bucolic life has it's hazards, eh? Good thing the little bastard doesn't know where the carotid is, too. Maybe you should carry a pressure bandage with you for arterial punctures.
    Oh, you missed a chance to get a blood gas on yourself......

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  17. The little ones are always the worst (how tall is Nigel Farage I wonder).

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  18. Perhaps you should have wrung his wee little neck and had soup for supper. (The Rooster, not Jason)

    Sorry John - I know you're a softie and will not only keep him alive but tuck him in every night too. X

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  19. I loved my bike and scooter as a kid.

    This new fowl? I take it some one threw him over your fence as they couldn't give him the chop when he turned out to be male?

    He would look dandy stuffed! Or an offering to the Great Badger Set.

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  20. Bastard 1, John 0. Revenge will be sweet!

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  21. I hope your wrist has stopped bleeding John.

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  22. It's fine..... A very tiny puncture wound . It was like being stabbed with a compass

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  23. I would take the little bugger to nearest market, they make great soup.

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  24. Exactly the sort of wound Lovely Hubby gets EVERY weekend when it's his turn to go and let the chickens out, for some reason Caldwell our cockerel HATES him. He doesn't like me that much but he seems to have some memory of me saving his life and only makes a half hearted attempt at an attack.

    If the little bugger isn't yours I suggest catching and despatching as soon as you have a suit of armour strong enough. Until you have felt the pain of a cockerels spurs you don't realise what damage a chicken can do.... and the Bantams always have 'little man syndrome'.

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  25. What Sue says! I have a cockerel going spare John - would you take him?

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  26. Good grief! Little bully!

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  27. Ah, the joys of bantam cockerels. I have at least a dozen of them, only a couple are aggressive but they keep my forearms bruised and scabby. Old skin is tender skin. Whenever I see a doctor or nurse, I get asked if someone is abusing me.

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  28. We don't have that sort of attack in my neighborhood. I have to put up with the weird lady at the end of the street who wants to be my "friend".

    Love,
    Janie

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  29. Ai! Be careful, John. I've heard other stories of devil bantams. You may need to take him out to keep the peace.
    Have a safer weekend!

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  30. A young lad was shaving a stick in an Oxfordshire village we stopped to dance in last year. He'd got the scratches to prove he'd been up a tree to cut it. Delighted to see a child making his own countryside fun, I stopped to talk. When he realised our group was from NZ it was inevitable that LOTR would enter the conversation. I pointed out one of our bearded Morris men, who'd worked on the technical side of the films and the lad asked "Was he Gandalf?" Delightful.
    Not so your vicious visitor eh.

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  31. OMG, those roos are mean! I love animals but would cheerfully kick one into the next century, if possible. Mary

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  32. My word, your tea towels take a beating, John ...

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  33. I am with Mary A. Sadly, the cocky rooster would not make much of a meal, would it?

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  34. The cockerel looks like a serama or dutch bantam know for their freindly and easy going nature.
    There's always an exception!

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  35. Harvey... I have put him in a spare run and he 's a real bastard of a cockerel.... Aggressive, and vocal.
    I suspect he was unwanted because he was too feisty... I tried him with a could of assertive hens and he battered them too

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  36. Little basward! He would be stock or soup by now in my kitchen! I remember my first run in with an unruly cockerel. We had just moved into our new house which came with chooks and the mr. I took the boy/son to karate lessons and came back too late to put the chooks away. They were trying to nest overnight in a big camellia tree. Anyway, we had rats around and, trying to be the best small holder there was, decided the chooks needed to be in their pens overnight. It was dark and I put a torch hat on and went to the tree armed with a broom to knock the hens out of the tree so they would go to the pen.. Well the Mr came out of the tree at me with his spurs at eye level, I could not believe how feisty he was in protecting his girls. However, he felt the broom from me, out of sheer terror!! But that was the night I nearly lost my eyes! Never forgot it!

    Jo in Auckland, NZ

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