Wild Flower Border,Funeral Turkeys,Strawberry Beds,Potato digging and the Island Girls settle

It's been a busy day here on the allotment.
And I have only stopped once (above) to drink my coffee and eat my bagel alongside the turkeys

I raked and levelled the plot of land by the stream that was churned up by the gravedigger who kindly scoured the stream banks a few weeks ago, and seeded it with four bargain boxes of wild flower seeds I bought from a discount shop in Prestatyn this morning. (below) I am hopeful that the eager beaks of the chickens will not eat the majority of the seeds and that I will have a beautiful backdrop of field flowers come the early summer.

The new turkey stag is growing at a rapid rate of knots. He is taller than Boris already but still retains the gentleness of a poult. I have become quite attached to him, but have agreed for him to be picked up next week. He is off to the other side of the village to be a mate for a lone single female at another small holding.

Mind you my turkey population will be growing by another two adolescents as soon as he goes, as my friend Eirlys has asked for me to take in her two slate turkeys as she no longer has room for them.
I saw my neighbour Pat this morning. She is the lady that lost her husband a few weeks ago, and during our conversation she commented that the turkeys provided a welcomed moment of lightness during her husband's funeral, as they "gobbled and called out" as the mourners walked through the Churchyard. So much so, that one of congregation could be heard "gobbling" back at them as the procession moved forward.

Pat commented that the horses in the riding stable fields (that adjoins my field), as well as the hens, ducks and turkeys all give her some solace when she visits her husband's grave.

"With all the animals around....it somehow makes the place even more peaceful" she said kindly

The strawberry plants which were a kind gift from Sandra's allotment have been planted up in their own bed (above) but have suffered somewhat from the snow and rain, so I don't hold out for their chances.

This afternoon I have started to dig over the main potato plot (below). and plan to finish all of the allotment preparations by next week. The bad weather has put my work schedule back at least a few weeks.

I let Thelma, Laura and Audrey out of their run today to join the rest of the field population. I have never had Rhode Island Red hens before and they are quite beautiful looking birds. I think I may get a few more.

Tosh

Sometimes you just need some mindless rubbish to settle down to on an evening. For Chris it is his box set of Miss Marple (with Joan Hickson) while he lies on the couch with a blanket; for me it is a routine thriller with a bit of action and pretty leading man.
I was going to see something arty with Hazel tonight, but there was absolutely nothing on in theatre Clwyd and our local Scala, so Chris treated me to a nice bottle of white and a dvd.
As it turned out, the dvd called Whiteout, was total tosh, but it was noisy, occasionally exciting and did have a pretty leading man (Gabriel Macht), so I will forgive the holes in the plot and the dreadful acting..........

Walk where I walk

Now I know most of my neighbours think I am a tad weird (it's something to do with the multi coloured beanie) but this morning I think a couple of them had the fact confirmed big style.
Overnight we had a fair smattering of snow,so before I let the animals free of their houses, I decided to check for fox footprints!
I started at the hole in the hedge near to where the pigs are housed, it is an area that the fat faced Welsh farmer indicated that foxes were entering and leaving, and there clearly marked in the snow were a set of footprints.....
I followed the footprints with the tenacity of Danial Day Lewis from The Last of the Mohichan's, up they went to the first coop. then they circled it, then off to another and so on, until every coop had been visited. I was so engrossed in my outdoor pursuits that I hadn't seen my neighbours from down the lane who were standing by the gate. The husband called over, "have you lost something?" he said........
"No" I replied importantly "I am just tracking game!!"
He shrugged his shoulders and laughed "fair enough!"
I didn't look much like a big game hunter...not with a cup of coffee in one hand and a camera in the other.
After review of the prints (back in the lab) I think the "spoor" is in fact that of a badger rather than the dreaded fox and the whole affair reminded me of the time that I went badger watching with my brother years ago.
My brother in law Ned, used to be a game keeper, so knew his onions when it came to wildlife. He took me ( and I was a real city boy back then) to some local woods to see badgers entering and leaving their setts, and was quick to instruct me into the "ways" of animal tracking.
"Walk where I walk" he ordered quietly as we entered the near pitch black wood and stifling a fit of the giggles, I tried to follow (on tip toes like a big fairy!)
Anyhow after a few minutes blundering around in the dark, we laid down in some grass to get a "lie of the land", and in the silence I could hear all manner of rustlings and slithering in the undergrowth. Ned seemed not to notice all this activity, but to me the noises were terrifying! (I had forgotten that we were in fact in rural Wales and not in the African bush)
After a few minutes my imagination was running riot and I remember creeping up to Ned to ask him what animal was stalking us....
"It's a rabbit!" he said with mild disgust.

At least for now I couldn't see any fox prints.....
Before I went in for breakfast, I snapped this photo of Jesus (the cockerel that was abandoned with me at Christmas)
He has been courting the three new Rhode Island Red pullets in their run.

You gotta Have BIG HAIR

Last night, with the snow still falling, I settled down to watch a real "blast from the past" movie from 25 years ago. Working Girl (1988), is a sweet natured , typically American, Cinderella Rom Com that clearly underlines the boom and boom era of the mid eighties.
In it we meet Tess McGill a poor but bright secretary (Melanie Griffith) who turns the tables on her wicked boss (Sigourney Weaver) and makes a success out of herself in business and in her romantic life.
Ok the plot isn't perhaps that original and nor is the dialogue (the famous line "I have a head for Business and a bod for sin" sounds incredibly cheesy when heard in the "more sophisticated" noughties.) but the film works incredibly well as a rags to riches parable thanks primarily to some very winning performances .
Melanie Griffith is charming and likable as the whispering heroine ( though she does not look that great in a set of black bra and panties). Harrison Ford does his usual charm offensive as the wall street boyfriend but it is Sigourney Weaver's performance as bitch boss Katherine Parker that almost steals the film.
She obviously had the time of her life taking her first evil steps away from the virtuous alien ass kicker Ellen Ripley.
Joan Cusack ( with some massive hair) turns in a few nice moments as Tess' rough as a bear's bum best mate and I had great fun picking out the before- they-were-famous likes of Kevin Spacey,Alec Baldwin, Rikki Lake, Olympia Dukakis and Oliver Platt in all the minor roles.

In the cynical 80's Working Girl , recalled a little of that wisecracking banter of the romantic comedies of the 1940s and by doing so , it made a star out of Melanie Griffith

Computer returns!

My computer has been fixed! Hallelujah !!!
Nuff said!

Village Hall quietness

The Chicken course is going very well, and despite the weather , all of my "students" turned up this evening at the memorial hall.
We has a lively and rather animated evening of "chicken talk" which woke me up after last night's hospital shift
We finished the session at around 8.15, so while I waited for Pat the ever cheerful caretaker to come to lock the hall up, I had a peaceful amble around the deserted and silent village hall.

Although we have only lived in Trelawnyd for 5 years I have a great deal of affection for the village hall. (seen right at last year's Flower Show- I am standing by the table!).

Tonight I could imagine nearly a hundred years of history crammed into the very walls of the building, and although the Ghosts of the past could be imagined and recalled, I didn't feel at all ill at ease standing there alone in the dark.

Some buildings have a nice feel about them, I always think. Our cottage does to be sure, as does the Village Church, but the Memorial Hall has a certain lightness about it, which is hard to describe. I always feel comfortable and at home when I am there.
Off to bed...it's been a long day

Thank you

The UK "readership" of Going Gently has just about reached the 10.000 hit mark ( for the past 12 months or so!) which I find an absolutely amazing fact given the rubbish I sometimes churn out here...
I am grateful for the visits and would love to know who in fact reads the blog
drop us an email at jgsheffield@hotmail.com if you have time, so I can see.
Thanks again
x

My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding

The best thing on tv this week was the channel 4 documentary My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding on Wednesday evening.
This was a rare look into the amalgamation of ancient wedding culture and "high fashion" of the "traveller" population of Britain, and was a brief but fascinating glimpse into a community that is mistrusted, hated and feared by the general population.
At first I thought that the programme was just a vehicle for some snobby voyeurism ( and there was an element of enjoyment in laughing at the monstrous fashion designs that are expected to be on show at these affairs),
However what I found more interesting, was the rigidity and adherence to tradition that was evident within the gypsy community and I would have liked if the documentary would have explored the dichotomy between religion (the families that were shown were terribly staunch catholics) and the well known view of gypsies being unlawful
If you didn't see it, I would recommend you give it a view

Supper Night

The bloody snow is back with a vengeance this morning, which is another bummer. Before I opened up the 13 hen houses I sneaked an extra feed to the guineas to bolster them up after an icy night in the Churchyard elm. From left to right we have Hughie, Alf and little IvyLast night my family braved the elements and almost killed themselves getting to our village for supper. My brother in law ( who is a bit of a daredevil and an ex rally driver) decided to drive up Gwaenysgor Hill ( which is 1 in 4) in a BMW along with my two sisters and another brother in law ( with all the starter in a huge picnic basket). The road was closed due to ice, but he in typical Indiana Jones style "gave it a go"
Suffice to say that after much shouting and fallings out (and a multiple yard slide down a steep snow covered grass bank) they left the car teetering on the edge and walked down the hill to catch a taxi up to us.(the long and safe way around)
Now I don't think it was the shock of nearly rolling down the hill that made them feel the cold ( a few gin and tonics and large glasses of wine soon helped them recover from their ordeal)

But all of them thought that our cottage was freezing even though the coal burner was on full draw. That's modern day central heating for you! Bloody softies! Halfway through courses they dug out all of our welsh blankets and sat there in the living room like a group of elderly old farts. I have a feeling that we won't be holding another supper night until spring time!

Smells

Four dogs, one cat, one fairly unhygienic slob (me) and Chris, all crammed into a tiny cottage in winter means just one thing! Smells! The whole family is coming round this evening for supper, so today I will stretching my stress neurones to the limit by fighting the tide of country living ( in true King Canute style) in trying to rid the place of muddy paws, animal hair and doggy farts. It never quite works! and the cottage although homely never looks like those wonderfull staged country homes I love to look at from Home and Antiques and Country Home Magazine! The carelessly picked ( yeah right!) bunch of flowers from the garden ( not in season) will be positioned casually on the kitchen table with a loaf of home made scones and a tiny pot of jam! An open bottle of Pinot can be seen on the rustic sideboard with two sparkling glasses and the fruit in the bowl looks as though it has been painted by some great master. And the home owner!!! ( who always looks like a psychotherapist) has the open mouth smile of a woman who has just paid the cleaning lady to scrub the floor and wash the dogs bottoms before the camera clicks!. Me! I aint no Jane Asher! Ok I have polished the silver, and I have "arranged a couple of blooms" in an art deco vase and there IS fruit in the bowl, but what we don't see is the merry half hours I have already spent chipping a stubborn Scottish terrier skid mark (poo not paw) from the floor lino and the sweaty few minutes retrieving putrid cat litter grains from under the cooker! I have not even steeled myself for the scrubbing of the loo basin yet.(I may need a large cup of coffee and a scented candle before I face that little job)
It's good that family visit, I thought as I wiped cat snot from the living room windows.....at least the cottage gets a clean

The Windy Side of care

I am not a lover of Shakepeare, but I do remember being totally blown away by Emma Thompson's Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. It is the only filmed piece of Shakespeare that I actually understood and enjoyed!
When she uttered the words "Yea, my lord; I thank it (my heart), poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care" I totally believed her
In my view she has never looked or acted better in her career!

Snow, sleep and Rhode Island girls

The snow is back!
Blizzards hit around midday and soon after our freezing walk William sneaked up to the bedroom for a sleep UNDER the duvet in an effort to keep warm!
I took my computer into Prestatyn for fixing.
then drove up to Denbigh to pick up my kind gift of 3 beautiful Rhode Island Red pullets.

All three are just at point of lay and chirped playfully away to Classic Fm as we drove home. I have set them up in an isolation run for a while, just in case they have picked up some bug or other, which I doubt. The trio are buxom healthy hens.
To continue my usual cinematic "chicken names theme they have been christened Laura (as in Linney), Audrey (as in Tatou) and Thelma (as in Ritter)


Two of the Rhodes minutes after we got home.

In the Electric Mist

I am a such a sad sausage.
I have a few favourite actors whose careers I follow with the interest of a ten year old with a stamp collection! Laura Linney, Russell Crowe, Audrey Tatou are but a few of my "heros" but I must admit I do also like the work of actor Peter Sarsgaard (above).
So, this evening, it was with practiced interest that I sat down to watch the movie In the Electric Mist, which Sarsgaard is billed third.
As it turned out the film was no better that a tv movie thriller and as usual Sarsgaard was underused. Most of his recent films have been run of the mill, basic thrillers in which he has not even been the lead in.....it is a shame

Cold

It has been a bloody awful day, cold and very wet! Far too wet to be digging the veg plots and far too cold to be thinking of planting broad beans and early potatoes. Even the dogs seemed unwilling to stay out on the beach for their walk, favouring the comfort of the arms chairs in front of the fire (above)
I have braved the elements for a while, and placed a few well chosen stones on the ever growing Church wall but allowed myself to be interrupted by a visit from the fat faced welsh farmer, who gave me loads of advice about setting up the next pig enclosures, a job I want to start next week! He said he would give me a hand stringing the pig netting taut, but stated he couldn't help me sledgehammer the 4 inch posts into place (at 71 I wasn't expecting him to!)..." I get a little breathless" he explained in his usual understated way!

For part of the afternoon I was effectively rained inside the house and caught by accident a re run of the 1944 classic Jane Eyre . Now I am not really a fan of Orson Welles (Mr Rochester in the movie) and I have always favoured the sweet faced Olivia De Havilland over her feuding sister Joan Fontaine (who played the plain Jane Eyre), but I kind of enjoyed this Gothic romp on the Hollywood moors. It was the ideal antidote to a miserable afternoon!

Walkabout

The turkeys went on walkabout this morning. I had cut my dry stone walling effort short ( I had only placed four stones in the wall to be honest) to take the Welsh terriers out for their walk, and was returning home when a four by four stopped and the driver asked me if I owned " some bloody big birds", apparently, he said four "big buggers" were having an amble down our lane (Cwm Road) and were having a great old time of it all.

I ran down the lane ( not easy at my age with tight longjohns and wellies on) and caught all four junior turkeys a hundred yards beyond the field.

Now Turkeys are bright little devils! Never EVER be fooled by their depressive big brown eyes and slow gait. They know when they have done something wrong and understand only too well when they are being told off.

All it took was one sharp "get here!" and quite meekly all four scarpered back to the field gate, with heads bowed ( and muttering quietly to themselves), I shall clip their wings again quite soon but wanted to wait for my "chicken course" students to do it as part of their learning...which will be fun.

Anyhow I have now spent a few hours at my sister's house, filing out a laborious job application on line. It is amazing how much I rely on my computer on a day to day basis....a scary fact in many ways......

"Gi Oeeer"

My netbook has crashed, so I am effectively computer less (well that is until Chris gets home from work).It is a nightmare as all my notes for my chicken course are locked away behind a blank screen as well as a ton of other documents and information.
Computer Boffin Nige has kindly been on the case this evening and has offered some sound advice, but for the near future I am sans netbook!!!!!!

Anyhow work on the dry stone wall has started.
According to Steve it is important to start with some large "key stones" on the base of the wall, which you work "outwards" from. The filling of the oddshaped gaps between these larger stones remind me of a basic childs' puzzle, and as long as the stones are supported from behind, the whole job sounds easier than it is in reality.
Apparently the whole wall has to lean backwards ever so slightly (to 33 degrees) and long connecting stones should be placed in the wall (and into the bank behind the wall) to tie the whole structure into place.
I hope the Church council will be happy when we eventually finish

This afternoon I have been busy weighing out feed and mixing it with poultry wormer ( which is phenomenally expensive). As it was snowing this afternoon ( yes snowing) I worked from the back of the Berlingo to keep the feed dry and parked on the field, with the Welsh terriers tied up behind. The scotties were free on the field.
A group of hikers went past mid afternoon and as usual Maddie ran forward barking loudly at the "intruders". I shouted out my usual telling off of "Give over Maddie" and one of the men in the group cheerfully shouted out "Now there's a good Sheffield accent!"
This tickled me as I has not realised that I had used the typical Sheffield phrase of "give over" (pronounced "gi oer") which literally means "give it a rest"or "stop it"
But on reflection, I realised that I always seem to use this Yorkshire phrase time and time again, especially when dealing with the dogs, another legacy of living a decade and a half in God's own country.

Chicken school

There is something rather benign about Chicken keepers I always think. 5 of the 6 course students attended my first "teaching" session this evening and they were just like my "first" group from last year!,in so much as they were cheerful, informed, slightly obsessed with animals and attentive. (yes I know.........sort of mini-mes in the making!)
The session went well, (even though I forgot the coffee) and the course fees will pay for this month vet's bills and two sacks of pig food!

Chicken Course II

I am in the process of topping up my depleted caffeine levels, as it has been a weird kind of a day. I worked last night and have not had any sleep this morning as I have been battling the on line NHS Jobs website as well as negotiating a somewhat unhelpful HR department by phone. (I have been debating applying for another job)

This afternoon I have been dog walking and field working and at 6.30, I am due to teach the first session of my second "chicken keeping for beginners" course at the village hall, and I feel completely knackered.

hey ho, after a few cups of the lovely black stuff and a hot bath and I shall be right as rain.

Phil Archer RIP

It's the end of an era. Jill Archer spent a rare day out with Peggy Woolly and Christine Barford and came home to find her 82 year old husband dead in the living room armchair.

It has been a long time coming as actor Norman Painting, who has played the Ambridge farmer for over 58 years, passed away last October, and I must admit I wondered just how the BBC would "get rid" of one of their most loved and respected characters!

In the end, Phil was found by his wife, in a peaceful understated scene which , as it turned out , was incredibly underplayed, brief and rather moving........The BBC does it again, as when it counts, this wonderful old soap comes up trumps again

dawn in Trelawnyd

It is usual for me to go back to bed for an hour after going the "chores" on a Sunday morning....Let me paint you a picture! There is Chris, sipping coffee and.....reading a biography of the Queen Mother whilst listening to radio 4 and the Sunday service........
and there is me, covered in dogs, listening to my digital radio ( the bitchy steve Allen on london talk radio) still in my woolly hat and longjohns.......
Happy Valentine'd day!