Cottage walls

I seldom do two night shifts back to back as it were, so I have to ensure that I sleep well during the day, To be honest it is a bit of a luxury as usually I grab an hour after a night's work before getting up again to sort out the animals, but as Chris assumes full responsibility for the dogs I then try and grab 7 hours before working again for another 13 on ITU.
I have slept for around 6 hours today, so feel unusually rested. The weather is blustery and cold, so after work I stocked up the feeders for the birds and filled the water butts before going to bed. I re filled them at midday and again at around 4.30, so Chris would not have to before climbing back into bed for half an hour.
Listening to the wind howl around the gable end of the cottage, is a luxury. there is no traffic noise, no passing pedestrian chatter, no slamming of doors or even the barking of dogs, just the wind muffled by 18 inch stone walls.So literally, you feel as though you have been transported far back in time. It's a far cry from the bustle of Wynyard Road.


Meg finds the separation from me when I am in bed, more troublesome than any of the other dogs. They have spent today watching Albert gain his confidence by creeping like a small shadow sporadically into the living room. Occasionally I can hear Chris yelling "Oh Albertttttttttttttttt" as he knocks over his catlitter tray yet again , so it's not all peace and quiet

A Masterclass in acting

I have always loved the work of Alan Bennett. His wry,understated view of the lives of the invisible middle classes can be wonderfully observant essays on lost loves,lost opportunities and small inconsequential lives.
His first Talking Heads set of monologues had huge critical and public acclaim in 1987, yet strangely I missed his lesser known Talking Heads 2 follow up, which aired on BBC1 in 1998.
Chris downloaded the second series onto his IPod this weekend, and today I had a chance to listen (and really listen) to a few of them when I was walking the dogs this afternoon.

Talking Heads 2 seems to be a little "darker" than the first series. True the recurrent themes of loneliness, self delusion and Northern humour are all still there, but there seems to be more melancholy around each essay then we saw in the first set..

Standouts for me must be the gentle story of abuse and unrequited love by the delightful Penelope Wilton and the masterclass of understatement by Thora Hird, who plays a feisty 90 year old struggling with confusion, her guilty memories and life within an average Nursing home.
This monologue is at times bitingly funny and also excruciatingly moving. Hird, (who sounds and acts like the female version of Bennett himself) couldn't be better; she lives the words she has been given and makes you scream with laughter seconds after she reduces you the listener to tears.
Amazing.....Amazing experience

Guilt and snobbery?

Trelawnyd, the lane behind the memorial hall

I was born and bred in the resort town of Prestatyn, which is located only 3 miles away from Trelawnyd. The town has changed dramatically from the rather genteel,predominantly middle class community I remember from my childhood.It now has a slightly rougher and downmarket "undercurrent" which I find a little sad and at times slightly threatening.
Of course upper Prestatyn remains leafy and comfortable,as it has always been. but the influx of the chav underclass from the North West urban areas of Merseyside, Lancashire and Manchester,seems to have dragged the pretty resort town to a place I don't want to see. Now I have to be careful here. My working class Grandparents were born and Bred in Everton, before they escaped the wartime bombing and settled in nearby Gwynesgor in the 1940s, and my best friend hails from Crosby, but the newer "migrants,coupled with the existing local underclass have absolutely no connection with the working class of a generation or two ago.
I know, that the benefit and sickness culture-, of weatherspoons early night offers, respect for no one and casual alcohol and drug usage is becoming a National norm;so blaming the decline of Prestatyn on the Urban poor, is perhaps unfair, but when I walked through the town this morning to see how the new art house cinema is getting along, I was saddened to see aimless groups of shabby shoppers smoking cigarettes,while unemployed teens drinking lager
sat around nearby.There seemed no purpose or drive evident in many of them, and I find this incredibly depressing.

Trelawnyd is not a fictional Emmerdale, Ambridge or St Mary Meade, it has its problems like anywhere else, but I do love the sense of community it possesses. People like my sister, Ann and husband Tim, have successfully injected pride and community into Prestatyn with initiatives such as the Flower Show and the Town's classic car festival, but the increasing numbers of a poor "underclass" makes me worry, so very much, what will become of what Philip Larkin described as 'Sunny Prestatyn'.

Mixed Animal Bag

The owner of the riding stables came around today to discuss last week's dog attack. I suspect he didn't quite believe the whole story but after surveying the junior group of misfits that had been scattered by his dog he seemed to go a little quiet.He also said that he had to think hard and long about the future of his Alsatian, as he said he couldn't guarantee that it wouldn't return at some time.....a sad decision to be sure, but I was careful to reinforce that getting rid of the dog is not what I wanted. All I would insist on, would be the safety of my animals the rest would be up to him.

Anyhow the rest of the day has been less confrontational. My efforts to tame Boris and Gloria seems to be working, albeit in a one sided way. Now Boris will gallop ungainly to the fence when he sees me, chirping away to himself, in gleeful anticipation of a piece of cheap white bread which he finds totally irresistible. He now takes even the smallest of crumbs from my hand quite easily and will just about allow me to stoke the incandescent feathers on his back. Gloria will gallop over with him, but seems not to actually understand why she is doing so.I think she is rather a dim bird.

The tame buffs remain a joy, and unlike any of the other birds,they actively insist on the closest of human contact. This afternoon Lilly climbed into the crook of my arm and sat there happy as Larry for 20 minutes.(pic below) I always find this kind of neediness by a simple bird extremely touching.

The last of the buff chicks are going through their "scruffy" period as all of their feathers start to poke through the golden fluffy down. It is too early to sex them by "look" but I have a feeling only 2 are hens.Eirlys at the farm may have the cockerels.......after all she was such a star taking 3 of my most aggressive drakes yesterday.

Albert remains a cat who lives four feet from the ground. He is now quite adept at circumnavigating the kitchen without actually setting a paw onto the floor. Of course the dogs remain pretty hysterical at his antics, as he has total control over their environment. Being at a constant higher level than they are, also reinforces Albert's dominance over them, and that must be somewhat infuriating, seeing that he weighs just shy the weight of a bag of sugar.

Badger watch

To protect the creatures concerned, I will not say where I was tonight. Suffice to say that I went to friends house in the village to watch the nightly "feeding of the badgers "

. It was lovely to watch these amazingly FAT animals up close and personal as it were (even better with an incredibly smooth Canadian Club Whisky in hand!), This photo is one of the adult animals, (one of a family group of 3)

It was an entertaining and all too brief evening.

Bee Keeping

The four smallest survivors from last weeks' dog attack have been watching me closely all afternoon, while I was digging over the main vegetable plot, as usual the weather closed in, which put paid to all outdoor activities. The runner ducks all seemed rather disappointed as I had been collecting worms for them all day (they ABSOLUTELY LOVE earthworms and will waddle over when I call them in almost childish excitement) waiting for a big feed.
Eirlys (the farmer's wife and hen keeper who lives on the other side of the village), has agreed to "adopt" four of the largest drakes who have been mating aggressively with the sweet natured females,That will leave me with a more manageable four drakes and 14 ducks.
The weather did not get any better this evening, but despite a few creaks and groans of the Belingo, we drove down the coast to Abergwyngeryn for the first proper Bee Keeping Course. The master Bee keeper, who runs the course loves his bees with a vengeance and surprising as it may sound, the whole introductory lecture was extremely interesting. It was also sobering as he told us that half the world's food is directly produced through the activity of bees.....worrying as the bee population has recently been decimated through disease and climate change......
Gawd, I am turning all green.......

End of an Era?

I must admit I was slightly concerned after finding out that Peggy Woolley has had a stroke! and she is as we speak lying on an unfeasibly large hospital pillow. Husband Jack Woolley is already suffering from the ravages of dementia, so things are not looking too grand for the grand old stalwarts from the Archers. The woolleys "are" well into their eighties now, so is the the genial Phil Archer and my favourite the ever pragmatic Jill Archer . Joe Grundy (he of the yokel voice and childish temperament) is even older, so it seems inevitable that the OAPs in Ambridge will start to be culled off, before the actors themselves fall prey to the ill health and worse.
Strange as it may sound , I will miss all these older characters when they indeed shuffle off this mortal coil.

I feel even more wheezy today, and feel I have a slight temperature this evening. Drove to Manchester airport this morning to pick Ann and Tim up after their epic San Fransisco,Las Vegas and New York........They were very giddy after a wonderful holiday....I am looking forward to our trip new year.

Shouting at the tv

Sounding like a couple of old ladies watching Saturday afternoon wrestling, Chris and I have been yelling obscenities at the contestants of Strictly Come Dancing this evening. Firm favourites amongst the women are Cherie (She has the gay vote every time) and Jodie......................we absolutely hated Jessie Wallace (with her Sally Bowles haircut)......thank god she was voted off tonight