Do Your Best

 I've just read two blog posts that discuss aspects of suicide. The act and the intention of the the act. Both made me think.
And both were incredibly sad in their own way.
My professional life has been touched by suicide many times
It has also been cushioned by professional distance, support, supervision, and an acceptance that all one can do at the suicide " front line" is your best.
Your best to read the signs that suicide may occur.
Your best to prevent the act,
And your best to treat the illness that may be clouding the intention .
" Do your best"
If you believe the phrase....it's the only sure way of dealing with suicide without driving yourself at worst potty or at best clinically ineffective.

I spoke to someone the other night who was contemplating suicide
It was a serious conversation, by a gentle and vulnerable person and was one that I tried so hard to facilitate a positive outcome from.
I will never know if I helped
That 35 minute conversation has lingered long in my mind all week.
I think I did my best

I hope I did.

Chaos Theory

The peace and quiet of the field has been transformed by the arrival of two new chickens and the Cayuga ducks. Now it resembles one of the latter scenes from Lord Of The Flies with various characters running amok, their little beady little eyes intent on mayhem and madness.
Not only do hens have a strict pecking order and a mistrust of newbies, but ducks and geese , too, hate any sort of change and that change doesn't always need to occur within their own species.
And so, ducks will chase and challenge new hens and visa versa. Geese will chase and honk at anything new even if the victim in question is a dropped piece of paper. And old established cockerels will chase down and batter any new male with a cock of his own and an attitude to match.
It's West Side Story , with webbed feet and fat bills instead of flick knives and a warbling Natalie Wood.

And so the old ducks have laid siege to the lurid purple paddling pool, in an attempt to prevent the new Americans from coming near. The new cockerel has been forced to wander around the edges of the field, where He is embarking on a full bloodied rape offensive of unwary hens
And the air is filled with loud quacking , shrill  squawking and hysterical to-nig and fro-nig
Only Bingley is calm
I fed him his treat of dog food this morning and he calmly ate the lot

As all around him descended into chaos

Caught Out

I am in the process of cooking a turkey lasagna 

Apparently it's low fat

So says the jaunty sister from last night's night shift

I have just collected the ingredients   

From sainsbury's

Looking like the wreck of the Hesperus 

I was standing by the deli counter trying to get my foot back into 

my croc which had fallen off

When a voice shouted

" have you got a scotch egg in that basket?"

Without looking up I picked up a two pack from my trolley 

and waved it gaily 

towards the voice

Nothing To Share

I'm working an extra night tonight

Last night at SAMS 

So I am a bit disorientated at shift changes

I have no news or thoughts from today

Save for the fact I've just made meatballs

Bleached the bog

And laid some superglue over a new cut on one of the cayuga's feet

Now I am off for a bath and a quick kip with the dogs.

Enjoy a melancholy Matt Alber

and his

" End Of The World"

Cayugas

Two beautiful iridescent green Cayuga ducks

And two cream legbar pullets arrived today

More waifs and strays

When I out delivering eggs, I saw a sprightly Auntie Gladys
sweeping fallen leaves out of her yard
She passed me a couple of scones and in her sing song voice
declared the Flower Show
" The best one we've ever had"
" mind you" she added as she swept away with her broom
" I went to bed at 6 o'clock afterwards
I was buggered!"

Wedding Plans

We  booked the post wedding meal yesterday with Jo, the delightfully chipper cafe manager rom Osborne House in Llandudno.
Click on this link for a virtual tour
Chris' buzz word phrase about the wedding has always been " I don't want any fuss" and so we have not only chosen a venue that has a faint wiff of " gay boudoir" about it but we have settled for a regular cafe restaurant that we know very well...one that isn't known for catering especially for weddings.
It is also our favourite eating place since we came to Wales.
We are taking over the conservatory on the evening of the wedding and so we are limited to the number of guests we can invite ( always a sticking point for weddings I guess) the final list has been made ...I just hope everyone will understand that we would have liked more "bums on seats " but
have a ceiling of how many bodies we can cram into one room!
My " let's have as bigger fuss as possible " idea of a big village hall party where everyone we know will be invited to a " scotch egg and nibbles" extravaganza is on hold until later in the year, which I think is a wise move.....Organising two do s  24 hours apart with a cast of thousands is perhaps too much to ask of me...even though I am a veteran of 7 flower Shows and 4 open allotment days!
A second party in the summer, where my sisters can flex their artistic muscles sounds great fun to me...the wedding day will tick Chris' " less is more" mentality.... It's a great compromise and is one that we are both happy with......
Mind you, it could be said that I have the bigger challenge than sorting out bunting in all this
For the subject of my attire needs seriously addressing !
What the fuck am I going to wear?
I am very conscious here, that I am presently typing this blog, whilst sat in bed, with a pair of bent spectacles  on ( one of the dogs sat on them yesterday).

This slovenly type of behaviour drives Chris bananas ( he is fastidiously precise when it comes to personal grooming) and already this morning he has requested that I don't come to the wedding looking like "Baron Hardup"

I suspect I will need a personal dresser 

A very patient personal dresser.

The Gwyneth Jones Cup

I never excelled academically as a child

I was always picked last for games

I never won anything at chess club, for drama

or for music .

I wasn't in the Scouts, so never earned my proficiency badges.

and I was never a prefect.

I rode a horse badly,

I was born too early for judo, and other after school activities,

And I was never awarded a special book at school prize giving

So it is with great pride that I now show off

The Gwyneth Jones cup for " Best Boiled Fruit Cake In Show"

It may be small

To some it was seem insignificant

But to me

It's class!

U Don't Know Me , Do You?

Oh dear.. My previous post seems to have ruffled some feathers
My reply perhaps is worth repeating

"Oh chris, do stop
I am not mocking at all
Jesus was " hatched" on Easter Sunday....hence the name
Even Jesus ( the real one), I suspect would have ventured a small smile at the fact a sweet little hen, with more chutzpah than joan Rivers, has his name after nearly getting eaten by a badger, getting bullied by the entire flock and having to cope with the fact that he/she is an ugly little bugger......

Yes I think your Jesus would have ventured a little smile"
I have written Going Gently since 2006
And not once have I ever mocked a religion or a religious figure
Tom Stephenson.........perhaps....religion never!
Chill a little eh
And please do pray for me..... That is a lovely thing to do for anyone