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Oh My God! I didn't have time for even the briefest of blogs yesterday..How remiss!. Saturday night was phenomenally busy at work with me having two ITU patients to look after rather than the more manageable one!

Sunday night seemed Even busier as I has to transfer out on of my more stable patients so that an acute spinal injury patient could be admitted. Working in one of only 11 spinal injury units for 16 years, gave me an appreciation of the holes that can occur in DGH care, and last night was no different as the truth is that no one has a comprehensive or indeed in my humble experience an "adequate" working knowledge of the intricacies of care.

I wont bang on about it, but I was fairly satisfied that all the i's were dotted and the t's were crossed and I felt that the patient had more than a fighting chance against the banalities of small hospital care..

Fell asleep fully dressed on the couch when I go home at 8.30, covered with a blanket of dogs. Up again at 10.30 feeling like shit.I am too old for all this!!!!!!!

the sound of a house

chris has gone off to do horse things, he has palmed the dogs off to the ever supportive Carol and Joan has staggered off to do the strange things an elderly senile cat gets up to. In the middle of nights I have woken to the sound of an empty cottage .

Like most Seventeen Century cottages with 18 inch stone walls,it can get incredibly cold inside Bwthyn -y-llan, even when the sun is shining and the temperature is warming outside. so despite a quick venture out to answer the door to Janet and Ned who had popped up to see the roosters, I am back in bed waiting to drop off again, before another busy night shift.

I can hear absolutely NOTHING! perhaps the odd passing land rover or crow from Duncan, but essentially there is silence. Unlike big houses, our cottage does not have an orchestra of creaks and groans when unoccupied! it just sort of squats where it is, and it is strange not to hear Chris listening to re runs of bloody Miss Marple or hear the dogs squabbling of Joan bleating on about nothing.........................perhaps that is why I can't get back to sleep?

Internal cocks,and worries about religion

4.30am and Duncan started crowing. Pitch black, middle of the night, what's the bloody sense of that? what possible reason would he have to let rip at that time? I mean in the natural world all that says to nocturnal predators is "here I am, help yourself!)
Anyhow I went back to sleep and hopefully the neighbours did so as well as not one has been banging on my door with choppers in their hands.
Duncan is truly a magnificent cock ( ok stop the Carry on Farming Jokes), and has pranced around all morning showing off. Poor Stanley, who is the definite Spock to Duncan's Captain Kirk, has been lying in the dust bowl under the hen house with Robina! looking a bit girly

This morning I went to the church to finish paining the new radiators. The peaceful nature of the place\is lovely,
Friend John rang me on my mobile and had a panicky few minutes worrying that I had or will find religion very soon! He was even more on edge when I told him I had volunteered for the Church flowers and cleaning rota! DON'T WORRY JOHN, you wont see me in a verger's frock anytime soon!

It will be a sort of flat weekend as I am working an extra shift tonight and working on Sunday, but then I will have some time off next week to clear the rest of the allotment plots.

Meg seems brighter this morning ( I would too after a ton of chicken) Chris and I are just off to Prestatyn and Boots to be weighed in our weekly weigh-in...............................................

Disaster day: Poorly Meg,a Fat pikey Slag and supermarket Mayhem

Caught up with Nige yesterday which was great, and got up early to get back to the menagerie. The journey was fairly eventful (more about this later!), but got back at 10.30 to a kitchen awash with bloody diarrhoea and vomit. Obviously it was Meg who was not well and a rather "wan" Welsh terrier was rushed to the vets to be diagnosed with an non specific intestinal infection and worms (my idea)
Feeling sorry for herself, she has been treated with several large injections and chicken and rice, and is now curled up next to me.

I planned to enjoy the journey back to Wales, as I love Manchester Piccadilly with its shiny newness and coffee shops, and managed to write a score of catch up letters to friends whilst listening to LBC. The only fly in the ointment was the rather large shape of a loud sixteen year old fat slag type squeezed into in a pink hoodie, (red socks and gold slippers and belt). Now she and her only slightly better dressed friend ran up and down the platform shrieking and laughing, (well more of a waddle than an actual run) and I just knew they would be located in my carriage ( and how right I was...............!)
Now the language from their table was just foul! it was "f*cking this and f*cking that and f*cking the

soddin other", and was I surprised when they pulled four cans of fosters out of a carrier bag complete with a large bottle of Baily's cream?.........even though It was 9.20 am...no I was not!!!)
I managed to forget them for most of the journey as LBC was turned up full blast on my digital radio, but the inevitable happened during a particularly long and dirty tirade, ......yes...I tutted!
Fat slag obviously heard me, and feeling invincible she half stood, shook a fat fist of rings at me and spat out "Wadda you tutting me for.....you Tw*t?"
Now chavs like this can be intimidating to say the least, but I had been angry at their behaviour for an age and was having non of it. Now I can laugh at my reply, but then I could have easily lost it completely with this revolting specimen. Pulling one of my mother's old sayings from no-where I hissed "If you come near me I will slap you right into next week!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and you know I really would have done.
Fat slag sat down gurning and muttering, but she actually SAT down!
A small but a satisfying little victory.

Got poorly Meg sorted as previously mentioned, then just had time to feed the chickens (and have a tussle with Duncan who is already trying to protect his girls) and collect the leftovers from the local green grocer, to treat them with.
Had to pick Chris up at 6pm from the station, so dashed to Sainsburys to do the week shop and filled the Belingo with goodies before jetting out on the duel carriageway in a sudden downpour. It was when I was sliding around the mini roundabout when fate opened the boot door with great timing, and various bags of shopping flew out into the rain! I don't know who was more surprised? me or the score of lorry and car drivers behind me. A large bag of dry dog biscuits, 2 packets of dry pasta, two bags of rice , a box of low calorie stuffing and a small box of chicken stock cubes bounced under car tyres with gay abandon! Thank god the dogs where not all sat in the back!
Red faced and shaken I bolted for home
What a day!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yawn

Stanley and Duncan started cock- a-doodle soddin doos at 5 am and continued off and on until dawn at 8am. I like the crowing as it sounds rather muffled and gentle by the double glazing! Just a bit worried about Carol, Viv and Mike down the lane and John and Mandy next door! Getting the neighbours on side is an important part of the field enterprise. Off with eggs this morning to appease a sleepless night, as part of a major PR offensive.
Seeing Nige in Manchester later
PS. Just got back from one particular neighbour who is NOT happy! despite eggs and a friendly approach.............let's wait and see......

Cock tales- Duncan and Stanley

Well the menagerie grows! Very Welsh nurse Ceri rang today and said her hubby would drop me off a cockerel this afternoon! They live right out in the sticks so I was very grateful for their kindness as I would never have found their cottage way in the back and beyond.
I felt rather rural myself when he brought two large 8 week cocks! to choose from, as he wasn't sure how to hold them or which feathers to cut to ground them! ( I love showing off)The big red cock seems to be a tough "teen" and rather feisty! and it took a bit of wrestling and a few nasty pecks before I got him subdued. The other chap is a smaller Light Sussex with rather bandy legs and a diffident manner, so as they are brothers and supposedly friendly towards each other I agreed to take them both!
The tougher handsome cock I have called Duncan! ( after Chris' Uncle) and the weedy white cock will be called Stanley (He looks like a Stan!)
The hens lined up with interest when the "men" arrived, and one of the black hookers looked rather surprised (to say the least) when Duncan promptly shagged her!
Stanley just buffed up his feathers and staggered around the coop hysterically in an effort to show off, as the girls looked on with mild interest!

Anyhow, things seemed to have settled down somewhat after a few minutes, and I hope that the neighbours will be happy at the crowing! which is loud but I think very comforting.


In March I am planning ducklings AND hen chicks.
Me thinks that Duncan is going to be a bit of a stud!
Duncan Browning will be pleased!!!!

Pass the tissues

Night shifts should have one rule of participation! and that is never watch a sad film after only two hours sleep. Fatigue, leaves the body and soul slightly wrung out, and an emotional romp of say Pet Rescue proportions or heaven forbid an unscheduled viewing of Little Women (1994) or Shadowlands (1993) can leave a person prostrate!

Finding Neverland (2004) is the kind of film that can fell the most cynical of movie goer at ten yards. It has all the ingredients; small grief ridden children, a willowy tragic heroine, sad incidental music and clever inspired and manipulative direction. Ok, the story of J.M Barrie's inspiration for Peter Pan is supposed to be based on a true story (yeah right!), but who indeed cares that reality is way out of the window in this film as the performances from dying Edwardian mom Kate Winslet and her brittle grieving son ( an outstanding Freddie Highmore), are stunning.

A weepy 8/10

2008 plans

Working tonight (we are quiet on ITU so what's the guess I will be farmed out to another ward), but have got loads done this morning and afternoon.
Bartering and little swaps of eggs and veg have been so useful to me over the past year! I have gotten quite good at it. Today the lady at the veg shop came up trumps and I collected a ton of slightly over ripe tomatoes and lettuce for the girls (a few stories about the chickens coupled with a few eggs have worked wonders with her) People love feeling that they contribute to the well being of a few animals in some small way, and getting people on board has been rather fun.
2008 plans have bee on my mind today!
I have the promise of a cockerel from one of the very Welsh country nurses I work with, so next year I do hope to rear a few of my own hybrids as well as a whole flock of ducklings. The runner ducks will be the cash crop of the year whereas new layers will take over from the likes of Robina, who have stopped laying.The whole of the field has now been effectively cropped close by the poultry, leaving me a blank canvass on which the new vegetable patches will be laid this spring.
I think I shall write to the owners of the orchard which is located behind our cottage yet again and see if they would consider a rental? The ducks would benefit form a move beneath the apple trees and would clear the overgrown untidy look of the place. (I could preserve apples and pears without feeling I am scrumping all the time).
The picture is of suddenly friendly new hen Beatrice, who has taken over from Mildred Pierce in the matey stakes.