Hughie's hero worship and District 9

Hughie, like some love struck schoolboy, seems to have developed a crush on Rogo the red cockerel. All day he has followed him everywhere he has roamed and with the good nature of a true leader Rogo has accepted this strange little bird follower with a great deal of alacrity. I had to smile to myself at teatime , as when Rogo had his afternoon wander around the gravestones in the Churchyard, there was Hughie tottering around behind him, with his now usual slightly bemused look, much to the amusement of some people placing flowers on a grave.
I have had a fruitful day, clearing the black garden of overgrown herbaceous plants. My stings have produced painful red welts and swelling over my chest and arms, and Chris is worried that I am heading for a full blown allergic reaction if I get stung again......
let's hope not

At the very start of District 9 (2009- at the Scala tonight), a character in this pseudo-documentary movie states that Aliens don't visit cities such as Johannesburg...they much rather dominate American cities such as New York and Washington, and with that cardinal rule in view, the audience is totally wrong footed by Neill Blomkamp's supposed allegorical look at the ghetto existence of the dispossessed.
The aliens or "prawns" as they are called by the local population are despised drone type beings trapped on earth; instead of being assimilated into earth's culture, they are dumped in an enclosed ghetto, where they are abused and used by South African big business firms, who are desperate to understand their weapon technology.
The parallels with the unpalatable aspects of human existence are clearly underlined but Blomkamp obviously has enjoyed making this B movie homage to all the alien films that has gone before and on one level has given his movie a sort of unintentional comical touch at times.

Impressive to watch at times, but generally rather too camp and strangely too bleak to be taken seriously, I found it all a little too much
7/10
ps. you can't take South Africans seriously when they swear!!!

Stung

Chris finally finished his first totally knitted garment, and slightly out of sorts, I agreed to model it,(albeit over an ill matching rugby shirt)
I have been wasp stung six times this afternoon (I was sledgehammering in new fence posts near the wasp nest) and am feeling much the worse for wear after it all.
Off to take a piriton



Gloria bounces back

With a nasty red welt around her neck and a few lost feathers Gloria looks a little battered and sorry for herself but has bounced back with a gentle "gobble" this morning.
I am pleased

What would you say?

You can tell it is early September. The clues are there; a slight chill to the evening air, a certain brownness to the grass and dusk can be seen marching forward to the late afternoons rather than at it's summer situation at supper time.
We also have those yearly 9/11 memorials on the documentary channels on tv to remind us that it is autumn, and time and time again I get moved to tears when those stories of ordinary people who experienced the extraordinary events of eight years ago are recalled.


One of the most moving of these documentaries has to be James Kent's 9/11 Phonecalls from the Towers. It chronicles the double edged legacy of mobile phone messages left for the loved ones of victims of 9/11. In their last few minutes on earth, the technology of the cell phone allowed them to leave everlasting messages of love and affection for their families and friends, and even though many didn't get the chance to "speak" personally, at least they had the opportunity to leave some sort of memorial of themselves to the people that really counted.

'It's me, I just wanted to let
you know I love you and I'm stuck in this building in New York. A plane hit the building& there's lots of smoke and I just wanted you to know I love you...'


Melissa
Harrington-Hughes, 31, 101st floor, North
Tower


if we are lucky, all of us should have someone we would turn to at times of catastrophe and more importantly have some means by which to share those things that for so many of us are never properly verbalised .
Those little objects of technology, chips and plastic , that can be so irritating in our loud, impersonal and intrusive modern world gave a few hundred people some solace and warmth in their left few seconds on earth. Their phones gave them that amazing opportunity to reach out and gave them a sense,one that we all need, that they were not alone.

A toilet disagreement, Gloria gets throttled and Hughie returns home

Above the Llandudno Orme Tram

My plans for digging out the stream had to be put on hold today as Chris took me to Llandudno for some lunch at Osborns and for a spot of shopping which was lovely.
We bought some curtain material for the spare room, added to the mix a poncey cushion from Laura Ashley and then bought some teatime treats in Marks And Spencer.
Before we left the store we went to find the store loo and found a line of sheepish women waiting to go into the "ladies". As we moved passed them a man who was standing in front of the "gents" told us we couldn't go in. "My wife is in there, she couldn't be bothered waiting!" he informed us.
The other women nodded their agreement and looked as though they were just about to join this woman in her jaunt to the gents. That is until I piped up with " Well I don't think that this is quite ON"....

Now before I get lynched for my un PC behaviour, please hear me out here......It is not my fault there is a tiny female toilet in Marks and Spencers (I did point this out in the heated discussion that followed), nor is it my fault that men use public conveniences on average rather more quickly than women do. (another interesting debate here!)
My argument is that as a man, I have a designated toilet to use and I expect to be able to USE it, without it being hijacked by the opposite sex that "just couldn't be bothered to wait".
The women in the queue thought I was an true ogre but I stood my ground, basically because I was annoyed by the fact that they thought that this behaviour was perfectly acceptable.....
If a man popped into a woman's toilet (of heaven forbid a disabled toilet ) because it was an easier option, then I would suggest he would be lambasted by any women waiting in line with some gusto!........The whole thing smacked of double standards...and I hate that!..........
Anyhow the man's wife finally ambled out, without much of a by your leave, and after we had "washed our hands".....Chris couldn't resist turning to the waiting line to say "that lady made a right mess in there--disgusting!"
Getting annoyed at some middle aged woman sitting on my loo....how sad am I?
Answers on a postcard please!

We got home at 5.00pm and when I checked the field I found Gloria with her neck firmly stuck in her enclosure netting. The wire had somehow looped around her neck and initially I thought she was dead!. As I freed her from the wire she flopped onto the ground gasping and floppy and for a minute I thought she had had it!
I picked her up and placed her in front of her house with water and gave her a brusque massage in the sun ;after a minute or so she started to came around just a little, but was still gasping. I lifted her gently into the shade of her coop and put Boris in too for company with food and water. time will tell if she pulls through.
On a brighter note the male Guinea fowl is back (centre of above pic). Without his mate he has presented as a rather forlorn figure in the horse field, but his return to my field has given the little fella a new lease of life as company is definitely something that is never lacking here!
Guinea fowl are funny looking birds....they resemble rugby balls which have an unfeasibly small head super glued to them, and for such a small weird looking thing they make a phenomenal amount of noise!....I hope he stays....I have christened him Hughie after my great Uncle Hughie.

Sparrow Hawk

Now before I was sidetracked by a rather playful Nigel, I was going to add a quick P.S. by blogging about something I witnessed at tea time.
Readers may remember that the hawthorn hedgerow is populated by a troupe of perhaps 50 sparrows. They constantly bicker and chatter throughout the day, raid the hens' food at every given moment and provide a noisy never still backdrop to the allotment and field.
Anyhow as I was approaching the field gate, I heard the distinctive "growl" of warning from two of the cockerels, this means that they have spotted a bird of prey approaching, and from my advantage point I could see a blur of a small sparrow hawk skimming the gravestones before he barrelled into the swarm of sparrows who had been perching on my runnerbean canes.
There was a puff of feathers, and he had gone in an instant leaving the flock of sparrows swooping away to the safety of the hedges.....
Apart from Albert (who has killed numerous sparrows) this was my first sucessful witnessed bird of prey attack
ps.
The Male Guinea fowl finally turned up at 8.pm.....he was eating some fallen corn and was trying to get into hens enclosure........I wonder if he will still be around by morning?

Large mysterious fish eats a duck!

Nige...........I hate you soooo much

xxx

New Plans

Now the stream that runs on the west edge of the field is definitely on "my" side of the boundary and as the riding stables have just put up their own fencing, I feel that I am now in the position to properly reclaim it.
Following the floods of the spring and early summer, the whole ditch has been filled with mud and silt and has always been shrouded by undergrowth and nettles. The ducks have done a sterling job opening up the bank side and I think I now owe them a bit of hard graft to give them a small but clean running pool, in which they and even Halleh can utilize.
If the weather holds up tomorrow I will start to clear the bank, but I need to get stuck in with properly repairing the pig fencing too, especially as Steve has somehow spirited up a half dozen robust fence posts,which he has kindly left by the pigs' gate.
With a small freashwater pool.......I can then think of getting a couple of geese!
tee hee