Cold snap

The weather has been very cold and still and the village chimneys have been smoking since mid morning. It may sound strange, but I love the view of the fire smoke rising slowly from many of the hundred or so houses crouched underneath the Gop, the scene makes me feel as though I have been thrown back into the 1950s.
The cold air seems to dampen the sound of the road somewhat, and the silence in the field has felt slightly odd .
A nice middle aged couple walked across the field earlier as though they were assessing the stock. It turned out that they were having to get rid of their pet hens and thought I may like to adopt them.
"we knew they would be coming to a good home" the wife said,...so it looks like I will have another 8 beaks to feed soon. At least the new girls will take over egg production from the old hybrids that are now in their twilight years.

ps. I have just walked past the aggressive terrier with Maddie and George......little bugger didn't make a peep!!!

Maddie kicks ass and Christmas cards

In the village there is one particular small ugly terrier that seems to spend his entire existence hating the world. Every time we pass, out he'll gallop, little teeth barred, whole body shaking with anger and barking hysterically he hurls himself at each one of our dogs but always behind the safety of his huge wrought iron gates.
Today was no different, we got the screaming treatment on our morning walk and again on our afternoon jaunt when the little bugger practically woofed himself hoarse and I must admit my nerves and Patience have been pushed to breaking point over the past year by his constant aggressive outbursts.
Anyhow,at dusk I took Maddie and George out to deliver a dozen eggs,and as we passed his gateway out he leapt to perform his usual gnashing of teeth and "kill everything" frenzy.
George stood stock still watching all this with mild amusement as Maddie uncharacteristically darted forward and dragged the terrier's head under the gate.She then locked on to the top of its head and shaking the poor dog like a mouse she ripped a large circle of fur right out of its scalp with a flourish.
With a yelp the terrier bounded off leaving Maddie full of herself and standing proud and me laughing my head off in the street.

I love sending and receiving Christmas cards..........I know most people find the yearly ritual somewhat irritating and pointless, but to me it can be a chance to catch up with people some of whom I know that I may never meet up with again. Some would question why bother? and the answer that comes to my mind would always be "for what has past"
Friends sometimes come and go, others (if you are lucky) stay with you always, but by the very nature of being friends they touch your life with varying significance and emotion and that in turn shapes you into the person that you are.
I know I sound somewhat sentimental, but the yearly ritual of remembering these people, making the smallest of efforts to write and post a simple card to them...........allows me to say......"I acknowledge your importance to me".
Perhaps that is what Christmas is all about....?

Cling ons

For those people that read these teenage Village ramblings...... I must say that not everything in Welsh country life is fluffy, quaint and sweet....
Tea time was a case in point....for three quarters of an hour I spent a tedious and rather mucky time pulling knots of smelly cling ons from the bums of 10 baby chickens....
oh the glamour........

Keeping up with the Joneses

I must admit that I just do not subscribe to the modern notion of having an all seeing and all doing mobile phone. I just don't see the point of emailing and "blackberry" connections and the lark as to me a phone , is a phone , is a phone.!
My mobile was a welcomed gift ! yet is never employed with the intensity of my friends and colleagues usage .
It is always switched to silent mode, it is never on my person, and I cannot actually remember when I last rang someone on it. Ok I do find it useful in texting friends a long way from home, but as a phone...to be honest the little machine is , well pretty useless.
I am glad that my phone has a limited level of importance in my life......my friend Geoff's work phone had over 70 missed calls on it when he was busy "on site" this afternoon, and I must admit that this constant necessity of being available would stress me much more than any intensive care patient would do.
Mobile phones limit essential space and time for people; they give the world an immediacy that in my opinion, borders on the abusive. Although I know that they provide safety and convenience for the masses, a tiny part of me mourns the demise of the public phone box, and the house phone situated in a cold hallway.

This afternoon the members of the Church council were ambling around the Graveyard, organising removal of the damaged trees (the ones that were felled by the summer gales). I left them to it and got on with tidying the allotment and then delivered some eggs and the rest of the village Christmas cards.
This evening I have wrapped the remaining Christmas gifts and will enjoy making a few "to do" lists later. William, Maddie and Albert are presently all asleep on my couch......
I am sat typing this on the floor.........

Central Station

Last night I watched Central Station. I haven't seen it for a couple of years now, and had almost forgotton how wonderful Fernanda Montenegro was in the lead role.
This scene is the final one in the film, when life cynic Montenegro realises she has saved a young boy's life (and subsequentely her own) by befriending him...
Her lived in face...say it all......I cried buckets...
It is a lovely film

............and then there was ten

Albert has been stalking the kitchen chicks since they were hatched last week, so it has only been a matter of time before he was successful in nabbing one of the little ones. This morning I was convinced that he was out in the garden, so when I refilled the birds' water bowls, he silently sneaked up onto the table and slipped unseen into the crate.
Before I knew what had happened, there was a loud startled "peep!" and Albert shot out of the kitchen with a tiny yellow chick firmly clamped in his mouth.
True to form every dog was up and hard on his heels, with me lumbering on behind, screaming like a banshee and bugger only knows what the neighbours must of thought as we raced together up the stairs and into the bedroom.
It was total bedlam.....Albert darted under the bed hopeful of some peace, but the dogs wanted what he had, and all four dived in scattering shoes,magazines,luggage and tons of fluff and dust all around the room.
It was Maddie that managed to corner Albert on the top of an old sports bag and I think there was a brief but deadly tug of war between dog and cat before I waded in slapping them both with a hastily snatched pillow.
The poor little chap that had been kidnapped was a buff chick and he was quite dead when I prised him out of an angry and spitting, Albert's mouth.......the dogs continued with their hysteria for a good hour afterwards......I went out and delivered the village Christmas cards to get away from it all.

The deformed but game Bunny surprised me this morning as I caught her in one of the hen houses actually laying her first egg. Compared with all the other survivors from the dog attack, Bunny looks typically like the runt she is. She is slight (only half the size of her sisters), is always last in the feeding queue and will often be seen leaning against the hen house wall or the electric fencing, so that her deformed leg can be properly rested..However I think that there is always something rather brave and spunky about her, and was strangely touched to see her sat proudly on a tiny brown egg in a neat little nest in a corner of the small A frame house. As weak and slight as she is, Bunny is the first of the young hens to produce which I think is rather sweet

Christmas

Yes a remarkably stunning Christmas display

This morning Boris was waiting to be lifted out of the safety of the locked garden shed so that he could run his clumsy run alongside the ducks in the outdoor field. Both he and the slutty Gloria throw me a rather resigned look when they see me coming, as if to say "come on then..take me", and both sit calming in my arms as they are carried to and fro the shed and field.
The weather has been dreadfully wet and wild so after all the outdoor jobs, I have started to set up the Christmas lights by the cottage front door.
I truly love Christmas! My affection is inherited from my mother,who, for all her faults, delighted in the preparation and execution of the tradition festive fare.
For weeks before "the day", she made layers of peppermint cream sweets, slickly chocolate truffles covered in vermicelli and coconut dusted dainties, all produced in early 1970's party dishes (covered in cling film)
Full cream and Sherry trifles were thickly layered on Christmas eve and fancy prawn cocktails were sculptured on the specially made up lunch table; every received greetings card was collated in her diary (with a tick reinforcing the fact that it had been read!) and tons of gifts , were wrapped in supermarket wrapping paper and placed on individual chairs in the living room for us to shred open.
Christmas made my mother happy!, of course there would be the petty stresses, but Christmas meant a full and busy house to her and my father, and for years the entire extended family would pop in and out for a whiskey, a martini and the usual present bunfight.
My elder sister refined my mother's desire for the ideal celebration's preparation and took over with some spectacular lunches and happy days over the years. With my mother's initial efforts and Ann's subsequent successes, we as a family have always had some lovely Dec25th's.

This year Ann and Tim, Janet and Ned and nephew Chris and Becca are all coming to us for Lunch, and I am now really looking forward to the day. Of course we will have little room, the chairs will have to be borrowed and not all the cutlery will match.......oh and I am sure that there will be a stray dog hair or two floating around the Yuletide dinner plates......but in the spirit of our happy childhood Christmas days, it is nice that Chris and I have the opportunity to add to the tradition.

Bell

I got to thinking today of things I would miss if we ever left Trelawnyd. Apart from the physical "things" such as bricks and mortar and the scenery and views there would be one major thing that I would definitely miss, and strangely that is an audible thing.
The rather melancholy tolling of the Church bell on Sunday mornings can be heard from anywhere in the vicinity of the village. This morning we were all up the Gop when the bell started to ring its ever-so slightly Hollywood How Green Was My Valley peal. It is a constant that is ever so reassuring.
This afternoon we completed the Christmas shop, had tea in Forties in Llandudno, then came home to lock the hens all away at 4pm. Both turkeys now have to be carried to the house shed where they are safely put under lock and key to keep them away from thieving eyes.........Boris is now quite obese and lifting him is a feat in itself. A group of walkers found the spectacle of me walking up the lane with a fat turkey under my arm hilarious.
Off to bed for an hour now as I am on night shift tonight