Deadly aim &Wellington survives his second attack

Last night the worst thing happened!. I had just finished writing my blog and put my laptop onto the floor so I could put coal onto the fire. In those few seconds William promptly walked over to the computer, sniffed at it briefly and cocked his leg to wee two short bursts of wee onto the keyboard!
The good news is that although stinking heavily of urine, I can still connect to the Internet, the bad news is that I can no longer use the letters FGHJKLBNMYUIOP and the numbers 57890 as well as @;,.?/-_=~. Thank god Chris is buying me a notebook for my birthday!!!!!

Wellington has been in the wars yet again! This morning I put the five new ducklings into the main duck enclosure for a run around and an afternoon in the sun. All seemed to be well for an hour or so until one of the two large drakes bullied him in a prolonged and sustained attack. Luckily I caught the tail end of this violent assault and hurried over to grab him when the oddest thing happened. The little chap, seeing me, ran over and literally jumped into my outstretched hand, no usual hysteria, no panicked shrieking, just a natural awareness of exactly where he would be safe.The drake had drawn blood on Wellington's head, back and rump, and had ripped many of his baby feathers about a bit, but generally apart from these painful but fairly minor injuries the little chap looked ok. The problem with birds that have been attacked, is that shock can be a huge factor in their recovery, so I quickly put him back in the darkened shed with his brood mates and food and water. Hopefully he will be alright. (Pic sister-in-law Jayne and Wellington this afternoon)

Jayne and Andrew called in to give Chris his belated Birthday gift. He was thrilled to receive a metal sculpture of a peacock for the garden. It is a cracking piece of art.

We are just off now to see Angels & Demons

Garden Flowers & Naughty Children

Finally the weather has turned just a little and we had torrential rain showers all of last night. I didn't mind too much as my vegetable seedlings were desperate for a good watering. The garden flowers and allotment plants seem to have grown and bloomed over night and everywhere has a bouncy health look about it. As it had been raining all morning, I have spent the time completing application forms for another bank job and shampooing the cottage carpets of the detritus from muddy pet paws.
The back garden has started to come into its own and I took a few minutes out to cut daffodils,white bells,aquilegia and red Valerian for the living room. I have always made sure that I have fresh flowers in the house every day, it is a small habit I got into after I bought my first house....even when I was a poor student nurse, I still indulged myself with presents of flowers. Oh the snobbery!!!

The hens have stopped most of their sorties into the Graveyard and have recently turned their attention to Mandy and John's garden next door. In small groups of three or four a couple of Black Hookers, Belle and Miss Kinsale have slipped their way surreptitiously under the field gate, they then have tip toed across the lane and into my neighbours garden. Thank goodness they bypassed a huge, well stocked vegetable patch, but I was shocked to see that all four seemed to have developed an unhealthy obsession with their long gravel path! The whole path have been untidily dug over, with gravel strewn all over the place,The mess was indescribable!

Mandy as it happened was very good natured about it all, and I think I placated her just a little by fashioning a makeshift barrier to the bottom of the gate ( I will drop her in some eggs later too!). The escapees spent most of the afternoon trying to work out how to get around the netting, but most gave up before dusk came....hens are truly fickle creatures

It has drizzled for most of the afternoon, apart from some weeding I have not done a great deal outside. The allotment is now actually looking just that little bit "greener"

This evening Chris has gone to Tai Chi at the memorial Hall, I have caught up with some telephone calls. One old friend has experienced a few love life complications recently and said without any malice that they should be raising ducks, which would keep them out of trouble......that remark made me feel just a little middle aged!

Obsession

The hen chicks are now strong enough to be placed into the shed. They seem to sense that they are safe in the dog's cage and now have the confidence of a large flock. From time to time they have a mad half hour, where they bounce hysterically around chasing each other with youthful exuberance! and invariably William, hearing the "pitter patter "of 24 little feet, will gallop into the kitchen, climb up on a chair and benignly watch the excitement
He stood like this for 35 minutes!

Mary Stuart

Chris loves English history whereas , I, on the other hand can take or leave it. The stories of what Queen got her head cut off defending this faith or other ,leaves me a little cold, but I knew he would enjoy the Theatre Clwyd production of MARY STUART which is produced by Terry Hands.
I realise that the story of the last days of the Scottish Queen Mary and her jousting with The Virgin Queen Elizabeth has little basis in actual reality, but I very much enjoyed this "historical" look at court manipulation and skulduggery!
The reason for this were two detailed and very accomplished performances from the two "queens"......Mary Stuart was played by the beautiful French actress Marina Hands, here pictured with the Welsh actor Owen Teale. She captured beautifully the regal strength and slight religious madness of the doomed heroine whereas Claire Price’s Elizabeth almost lapsed into Miranda Richardson's Queenie from Blackadder, but reined in her performance to just the right side of "shrillness" and power. The final meeting between the two, which is essentially a duel of temperaments, was quite electrifying to watch.
It was a lovely change to see good quality live theatre

The Flower Show

Trelawnyd's 36th annual Flower Show is firmly booked for the 15th Aug, and some of the fine tuning for the day was debated this evening by the Flower Show committee at Auntie Gladys' house.
I now have been "elevated" to the position of Chairperson(!!!) and the committee itself now numbers eleven people with a score of "show friends" who will be available to help on the day, so people wise we seem to have bums of seats as it were.
Historically the show has always poured donations and sponsorship towards numerous village causes and has never really publicised the fact, so this year I personally feel it is important to let the village population realise how we support our own community.
If people understand that we have purchased the new tables and curtains for the village hall for example, then perhaps some of the new members of Trelawnyd may feel that the show IS of use to the community and may be compelled to be a part of it..... I do hope so.
As the meeting went on Auntie Gladys pottered around her farmhouse style kitchen organising tea an biscuits. The "ladies" of the committee always receive their tea in china cups and saucers where as the men have china mugs! She didn't quite have time to bake her usual scones for the meeting's interval but I did receive the surreptitious "scones in a bag" when I left her house an hour or so later (a small thank you for the small gift of eggs I drop off to her every other week or so)

Menagerie update

A neighbour lost one of her beloved dogs today. He was ten years old and died in his sleep after a short bout of illness, but the shock of his passing was profound and upsetting for our friend who, like us, treated her animals as surrogate children. I called around this morning with some garden flowers and as I have worked in the field for most of the afternoon, I have witnessed a steady stream of neighbours calling around with flowers and plants, to offer their sympathetic best wishes. People can be extremely kind when the wind takes them, I always think.
As George spent an extended playtime stealing eggs as they were laid late, I got on with planting sweetcorn seeds into plantpots and weeding the 5 large vegetable plots and I stopped several times to watch the field population "enjoying" the summer-like afternoon.
The early seasonal warmth seems to suit the animals who all slow their pace of existence right down to almost a Mediterranean amble.
The pigs spent most of their time asleep in the shade of their house, venturing out only to use their latrine or to slurp nosily from their water bowl.
The ducklings, almost full grown, spend their time sat together in the long grass, but remain, silent and alert and aware of all what is going on. Bunny the runt, Mary and Roger the bantams sat next to them just on the other side of their enclosure fence, and all are fast sleep. I can see Bunny's deformed leg sticking out between the chicken wire, both her and the tiny Mary are laying small delicate brown eggs daily.
The remaining buff girls sit in the shade, slightly overheated by their heavy feathers, and Scotty (the young buff cockerel, who I have recently separated from the flock to give their feathers a chance to recover from repeated sexual advances) is alone wandering around the turkey enclosure. He looks bored.
Boris is still acting like a typical stag turkey and consistently shows his fan tail to Gloria and all of the runners in a sexual display, She and the ducks ignore him and appear to be dozing in the long grass.
I can just make out Susan, pecking absently at the ground, and she seems to have enough energy to peck at Maddie, who is ambling by on her way to watch out for passers by at the gate, all of the other hens are grouped untidily together in the shade of the hen houses.
I can see Albert stalking a rabbit by the compost bins, as Welsh terriers Meg and William sit quietly watching his antics. I am listening to the LBC discussion about the recent MP's expenses fiasco as I realise that I have a touch of sunburn.
Being outside is so much better then completing jobs in doors, I really should have been looking for my mobile phone, I mislaid it somewhere in the cottage the day before we went on holiday, I just couldn't be arsed!

...all about my mother

I have been thinking about my mother a lot recently. It has been over six years since she died so I wondered today why I should be remembering her at this particular period of time? I guess being on holiday with Chris' mum, and seeing his interaction with her has made me reflect on my own somewhat troubled relationship with my own mother, but I suspect my meeting with Nu in London and our discussions about her family had really triggered those memories, that have been slotted neatly away in my Psyche.
My mother was a difficult, bad tempered and rather bitter woman in her later life. She had a chronic anxiety disorder (which had never properly been diagnosed let alone treated) and numerous health problems that I would prefer not to discuss is this type of open forum. Typical of many women of her generation, she became isolated in the role of housewife and mother (neither of which fulfilled her in any way) and I would like to think that beneath her somewhat brittle and critical personality there lived and breathed a bright,active brain that craved to do something more with her life.
The problem with my mother was that she didn't (or more importantly couldn't) escape from her own negativity and ultimate depression. The gloom that constantly surrounded her alienated her family and friends and even now years later this legacy of bad feelings remain firmly atop her family's memories of her.
Years ago I went through a bout of counselling to get into perspective some of the more painful aspects of my mother's behaviours. It helped too!......not in that Hollywood "road to Damascus "sort of way.....you know the sort of emotional romping- "ahhh Ha Moment" , experienced by Tim Hutton in Ordinary People, but through a patient exploration, I started to see a woman who did not always possess the skills to be an effective and successful mother.
Today, I don't have any burning regrets or heart aches about her, I neither feel angry or upset and I am also aware that I am not remembering things through rose tinted glasses; all I do know, is that I perhaps have the occasional need to remember a more balanced view of her. I talked about her to Sorrel when we were at dinner one night in San Fransisco........I thought it odd that it was my first conversation about my mother with my mother in law in the nine years I have known Sorrel....

The Magic Of Pasta

Someone who reads this blog, asked me today how Susan was getting on, and I must admit the valiant little girl is doing ok, thanks primarily to spaghetti!
Every morning and evening I cook a large bowl of pasta up for her and sneak it carefully under her hen house. She has swiftly learnt to dart in before any of the other hens realise what is actually going on and I lock her in with a huge bowl of her favourite food.
In just a few days the skinny little hen has put on some weight and is looking definitely perkier.
I know it sounds a little indulgent to be cooking separate meals for a sickly hen but I have been so moved by her long-drawn-out fight to survive this mystery illness, I think, boosting her remaining chances it is the very least I can do