Christmas countdown

The Village Hall was packed this evening, when the old ladies of Trelawnyd held their usual Christmas Fayre. For a pound you got a cuppa and piece of cake (my chocolate sponge disappeared quick sticks) and then had a chance to spend a ton of loose change on various brick-a-brack stalls a beetle drive and raffle.

All the usual suspects were there....Old Mrs Jones from the Pen-y-cefn Isa, Auntie Glad,Pippa,Sylvia, Derek and Heulwyn from the Flower Show committee,Neighbour Trevor,Geoff and Chris (below) and Carole from down the lane with Gwyneth in tow who was sporting a very glam white fur hat.

The whole thing is all rather old fashionably sweet. ....The village school Children massacred a set of Christmas songs, the vicar made a short slightly embarrassed speech of thanks and I bought a jar of pickled onions for 50p.

Geoff and Chris

The excitement is palpable

Is it me or does the guy on the right look like Paul O'Grady?

Gwyneth sporting her new hat (Bought from the Hospice where she says real bargains can be had!)

No False Nostalgia

Being watched closely by the overactive Albert, I have transformed the cottage kitchen into an untidy sort of bakery. I have made an average Victoria sponge and a rather splendid chocolate cake for the village Christmas Fayre tomorrow night and at the moment my first attempt at a Christmas cake is half way through the marathon of a four and a half hour bake! The Yuletide smell of warmed candid peel,lemons and treacle has yet to permeate around the cottage.
The rest of the day has been pretty nondescript. Clover has been flinging me dirty looks all day, but has kept his distance, and poor Bunny (the little black hen with the congenitally damaged hip) has constantly been the object of Rogo's affections...which is worrying as physically her legs are just not up to the onslaught. I think I will separate her from the others and put her in to her own little run along side her sisters tomorrow.
The weather has been awful by the way.
The news has been full of the sudden demise of Woolworths and I must say I couldn't give a fig that it may well disappear from our high streets.

I have no nostalgic memories of Woolies at all. Even as a kid, I never ever really liked the store ( I was a bit snobby even then!), and to this day I have always found it to be---well.... a bit of a mess. I think that most big chains have a certain identity with the public which they have cleverly cultivated over the years. Marks and Spencer's are reassuringly Middle class;Waitrose and John Lewis have buttonholed the luxury market and Tesco does "cheap and value for money ". For years and years now, Woolies seems to have lost its way. Having too many fingers in too many pies,the store has become synonymous with cheapness and throwaway service and its lack of sophistication has become unfashionable with a more fussy shopping public.Personally I am tired of the big eazyjet type colours , logo and plastic 1990's feel.....I kind of prefer our village shop which perhaps sells all the same things crammed high in untidy cardboard boxes on dusty shelves...........

Buff rage

Clover took advantage of my overtired state this morning and launched his first major successful attack!.As I was opening up his hen house, he shot through the poop hole like a fat golden space hopper and pecked me several times sharply on my right hand. I was so surprised by all this, that I toppled backwards into the mud, and galvanised by my embarrassment and moment of weakness he let fly with a few karate style drop kicks, in an effort to finish me off.
By this time the rest of the buffs had tumbled out of the hen house to watch, and I found myself strangely worried that they might judge by lacklustre fighting performance!
Testosterone filled cockerels must be dominated as soon as they show bullying behaviour, so I immediately counter attacked with a sweeping kick to his backside. Amid a shower of yellow feathers, Clover was launched airborne with a loud "cluck!", and he landed with a bang on top of the little Buffs outdoor run.
I then pressed my advantage ( and started to feel slightly guilty as I remembered that hens have the brain power no larger than the average peanut) and gave him a hard slap on the rump for good measure.
Defeated and shamed he stalked off muttering to himself as Lily climbed up onto my knee with open and undisguised admiration
.

Thoughts of past housewives

Today I have made two dozen mince pies for Christmas and have hidden them away at a neighbours' so that Chris won't get his sticky fingers on them, I have also shopped for the ingredients for this years Christmas cake which I hope to get sorted tomorrow, as I am working tonight.
During all this home baking and home making, I got to thinking of perhaps how hard it must have been for women of my grandmother's generation to sort out everything at home. I sort out the home and the animals with all the benefits of washing machines,house hold gadgets, constant hot water, a car, supermarkets and a more importantly a wish to do it all, but even though, I can appreciate that there just is not enough hours in the day to do what needs doing

So today is case in point.

I have fed and watered 78 animals, cleaned out four hen houses and tidied our own cottage, walked William twice separate from the others so that his sutures were not pulled, walked the other three dogs twice also (once on the beach) shopped, baked the mince pies, cleaned the bog, ran down the lane with the neighbours to round up escapee hens ( including Nonnie, one of the beautiful Broody Nolan chicks below pic). I have also made Chris' diner, wrapped a load of Christmas gifts, collected and delivered some eggs,polished the silver and cut some disgusting "cling-ons" from Meg's bum.......

Thank god we don't have Children......how did women cope? Bugger only knows

Albert minus Balls

Another day, another post op patient....unlike poor William however, Albert has bounced back beautifully after having his little knackers off this morning. He has stuffed his face with stolen dog food, been chased up and down the stairs by best friend William and has spent some merry minutes biting and licking his tiny suture lines in front of the fire....perhaps he is just thick-as-mince.......

Perhaps things will get better?

Leader Julie Graham

The BBC remake of the terribly dark 70's series of Survivors, started off this evening and I must say I was rather disappointed with most of what was on offer. The end of the UK as we know it felt all rather sanitised; the streets are clean and devoid of corpses and vehicles, the motley group of young survivors picked neatly from every ethic group (Modern Arab, traditional Muslim child, prisoner,black alpha male , a middle class white housewife and the true horror of loosing all of your next of kin was reduced to a perfunctory few shots of sad faces and a few bodies on a hospital floor.
Series such as Threads and films such as The Mist and 28 Days Later... did it all so very much better, as they slowed the pace of their pieces right down....allowing some semblance of tension into the narrative.
Having said, there are few things that I did like in tonight's episode. I liked the fact that the leader of the survivor group turned out to be a woman. I also liked the underplayed performance by the 11 year old Chanak Patel as a doe eyed orphan, and I did appreciate the only one chilling scene in the entire episode, where Patel watches a trapped dog in the back of a car barking piteously for help........... but generally the whole thing was rather rushed and all too slick for my liking.....bring back the original that's what I say

Tantrums

It has been bitterly cold today, but after the claustrophobic environment of Intensive care last night, I kind of enjoyed the inclement weather this morning as I was completing the chores.
Feeding and watering the stock can be a bit of a bind when its wet, but I always try and spend a few minutes sitting with the buffs, so that the girls can climb up on my knee for a spot of pampering. This morning I sat in the lee of the wind, next to the hen house and true to form Violet, Lily and Sorrel all ambled over like the fat teenagers that they are ; and heaved themselves on my lap. Poppy the shy cockerel sneaks over somewhat guiltily for a chin rub leaving the two non hand reared Elizabeth and Shelley alone in the henhouse, rather unimpressed with all these shenanigans.
Clover the now huge cockerel seems to hate my "love ins" with his females and has suddenly developed a rather caveman type mentality where I am concerned. Every time I sit down, he waddles up to me with his feathers puffed out in anger and with a low growl will give my sleeve or wellie top a true battering. He has not quite got the confidence to physically attack my "real" person as yet, but seems pleased as punch to shred the odd zip or pocket when he can. I have quite a soft spot for him

Thanks to everyone who has asked about William. He remains bruised and battered, but has ( described by Chris in rather graphic detail) had a large formed and magnificent stool!!!!

Not enough time

Short, snatched blog today, what with walking three dogs separate from William, Christmas shopping, egg deliveries, poultry care and work tonight............I have not had much time to sort much else out, but William does look marginally better than he did (although he has not had a poo yet!)