Going Gently

Terror At The Mall

I have seldom seen a documentary that has reduced me to tears, but tonight's showing on BBC2 of Dan Reed's film Terror At The Mall had me bawling.
The film, through some horrific CCTV and harrowing personal testimonies told the first hand story of the Shabab militant attack on the Westgate Shopping Centre in Nairobi just a year ago.
With Muzak echoing around the burger bars and upmarket supermarkets the audience watches in horror the security camera footage of ordinary people fighting to survive the idiocy of four killer gunman who have chosen to kill women and children for a fucking cause.

I hope that any surviving Somali fanatic somehow gets the chance to see this documentary in some airless jail cell...for overwhelmingly it celebrates the strength and the dignity of the human spirit regardless of race, class, belief and community.
It's not just a horror story.

The fate of one group of survivors linger long in the mind. Behind a small display table a group of black African, white African and Asian women had taken refuge with a handful of children. Together, after several hours, the women fled the crossfire, each one carrying the child of another. And together they reached safety after being saved not by the incompetent security services but by a handful of off duty police and civilian men with their own weapons.

One woman of that group, a serene and quiet spoken Valentine Kadzo ( below), finally added "We all come from different communities, but at that time we were one. I’ll always treasure that moment because everyone was caring about the other.”

It was those worlds and their delivery that made me cry even more

Groom and ...errrr Groom

We get married in the county of Conwy, but we live in the county of Flintshire. Therefore we have to register our intention to marry with the council registrar of Flintshire who will then let the registrar of Conwy know ( are you still with me?)
Yesterday I completed my side of the paperwork......the registrar was very sweet ( all very twin set and pearls) but kept referring to my girlfriend, " she" when she was completing the paperwork... I didn't correct her until she asked me for my girlfriend's name and I piped up with a wry " Christopher"
I wasn't annoyed just faintly amused, as she really should have known better and she did apologise very quickly...
Anyhow
My receipt for the whole thing ( after I had paid my 38 quid ) looked a bit scrappy and Chris was certainly not amused by it.....if you look closely he is referred to as being the BRIDE
Whoops

Good news

I was pleased with yesterday's snapshot post

Farting through windows, egg throwing teens and Flower Show news

It's all go here in the village

Today's post is even better

" take aim........finger on the trigger....and FIRE!"

It's amazing just what some judicious antibiotics

Half a can of kitikat

and a good night's sleep can do to an old turkey

Bingley's Back!

Village News

Other things other than turkey traumas happen in Trelawnyd you know......here are a few little moments from today
I stopped at the house of affable despot Jason this morning. Egg production is on hold for some obscure reason and I wanted to leave a message telling him so..seeing that Monday is egg delivery day. Claire ( Mrs Affable Despot) was home and a little bizarrely showed me their dining room window which had been heavily covered with dried on smashed egg two nights previously! One of the culprits was a local teen from around the corner and Claire was waiting for the boy's parents to frog march the little sod to clean off his handiwork. So far there was a no show, despite Claire's insistence that the boy does his duty....a sad indictment of parent power!.....having said this Claire is not a lady to be crossed so, I expect the eggy window will be cleaned pretty soon.
As I walked down Bron Haul Mrs D called a hello from her front garden. " I believe you are getting married fairly soon" she called out....then preceded to tell me all about her grandson's male partner...who is a " lovely Boy" .She told me that she is going to enter her outside tubs in next year's Flower Show!
Auntie Glad was in the middle of hoovering her front room ( the living room that is only kept for best), when I called round. I wanted to check with her if it is still ok for the Flower Show Committee to meet in her kitchen over the next year. I knew it would be, but I felt I needed to ask given the fact she is becoming increasingly frail over the last year ......she agreed that our next meeting would be on Tuesday the 7th of October at 7pm. " I'll have some scones ready" she trilled as I left.
At 5 pm our elderly neighbour came down to the field to see if I could lend him a step ladder..I asked him why he wanted one and he told me he had locked himself out and wanted to climb through his bedroom window........" You're 90! " I shouted ( is if he didn't know) and minutes later I found myself squeezing my fat arse through a tiny PVC bungalow window whilst farting with the gusto of the Queen Mary's hooter with the strain of it all.

The cottages of Bonc Terrace just down from Gladys' House

This afternoon

A Face To The Wall

When animals refuse their favourite tidbit, you know that they are ill.
When turkeys refuse their favourite tidbit, they are seriously ill.
It's an " all or nothing " thing where these strange birds are concerned

Yesterday I noticed that Bingley looked somewhat " droopy" . I offered him some corn from my hand, but he just slowly turned his head away and the appropriated bowl of wet cat food from the kitchen window sill, which normally would have sent him into a mini frenzy of excitement , seemed to illicit the same response.
It wasn't a good sign.

I checked around , but thankfully couldn't see the telltale yellow poo signs of blackhead infection, ( an infection which is invariable fatal to turkeys) so I dug some baytril antibiotic out and gave him a dose to cover him generally for any other potential infection., and then left him to it.
The rest would be up to Mother Nature.

This morning, he's still not eating and I noticed that he's started to turn his head to the wall.
Turning a head to the wall is a term I give to animals that are giving up.
I have him another dose of antibiotics and syringed some sugar water into him.
He didn't protest and just watched me carefully with his huge black eyes after I had let him go.

A minute later he turned his head back to the wall, and I reluctantly left him to sink or swim as the sun warmed away the "nearly frost" of last night's cold snap on the field.

Titivating

Ok, it's not quite on a par with Lady Cora's antique China breakfast tray, but this ( or variations of it) is what the Dowager Countess Chris is presented with for breakfast on weekends.
( try not to notice the small chip on the old habitat jug...but at least I did made the jam)
Anyhow with Christmas rearing it's ugly head....I am in the process of searching for an antique breakfast tray to give Chris.....I draw the line at a tray that has one of those newspaper racks built in to it.....(that's bordering on the institutionalised disabled) but I am sure I can find one that looks the part.

You can tell we are in the final semester of the year. Downton and Strictly have returned to tv, egg production has started to fall off somewhat and the cottage is filling up with big fat bastard hairy house spiders .
Now I must go.......I have to press Chris' silk pyjamas ...a lunch menu needs sorting.......and there are pots to side in the scullery