A lady Of Letters

I know this video is 10 minutes long, but it is well worth re visiting, as it is one of the best observed, uplifting and ultimately best performed of Alan Bennett's monologues.
Bennett shines when he turns his attentions inwards to the well travelled subjects of loneliness, mental illness and Northern pragmatism.
I absolutely loved this re run of Patricia Routledge's Lady of Letters

Growing older gracefully & drake sexual tension

I believe that we as a nation possess a rather patronising and nanny-ish attitude to older people. They are sometimes seen as surplus to requirements, a burden on resources, slow, cumbersome and more often than not, less than vital in deed and thought
Yesterday Chris, Nigel and I witnessed something that reminded us all that old people aren't the weak willed, physically frail characters we think they are.
We were getting ready to leave the cottage for the railway station in Prestatyn, so that Nigel could catch his train home to Manchester. Outside it was almost dark and raining (when isn't it?), and through the gloom farmer Ralph drove noisily past on his massive tractor!
As we watched all of us could make out a small figure perched precariously on the backplate of the vehicle and I burst out laughing when I realised it was Mrs Jones from Pen-y-cefn- Isa (above right) Down the lane, and without the usual health and safety worries, Ralph was giving her a quick lift up to her old farm!
I giggled at the fearless fun shown by Mrs Jones and smiled at the lack of patronising worry shown by Ralph.........and I think the three of us watching learnt a small lession in how not to pigeon hole people and their behaviour!

On the home front Halleh ( the broody Blanche's adopted duckling son) is suffering from a sudden rush of sexual tension. Still unaware that he is , in fact a drake, he has shown some half arsed amorous interest in some of the more delicate hens. Every morning, "stiffened" by his sudden urges he has pounced upon a passing hen and rather messily grabs her by a beakful of feathers. He neither tries to mount his victim or flattens them by holding down their head down in typical drake/duck style, but holds onto their feathers briefly before the hen gives him a bit of their mind and chases him away.

Mindful that things could well get out of hand in the future, I will keep an eye on him, and if he becomes too sex fuelled, then I am afraid he will be placed into a run on his own.......here's hoping he realises that the six remaining runner ducks are a better prospect for some duck on duck sex!

Nige

Nige is easily pleased.....we drove to Rhos-on-sea this afternoon and walked along the promenade, ate ice cream, talked,laughed and had a thoroughly "English" good time.
It was only a flying sort of visit as Chris and I are off to his "Christmas ", work do in Conway tonight.
The turkey poults are still doing fine by the way

Living a small life

Compared to most, I know I lead a fairly small and uneventful life. This fact doesn't bother me at all, especially when I remember the headaches and mental exhaustion I experienced ( and to be fair also enjoyed) when I was a career nurse in Sheffield.
Village life suits me, It really does but I am also very aware that it makes me look "inward" a lot of the time, and I do fear that at times I may be, (shock horror) a bit of a boring old geek!
I guess sometimes, the minutiae of what duck did to what pig isn't that important when I could be discussing the recent banking bail out or the latest debate over the Kercher murder trial, but hey, that's what I signed up for.
Perhaps an example of the small nature of my news ( and the way village communication works) was how the news about the demolishing of the bridge down our lane spread like wild fire. When I took the dogs out this morning, I was informed of the prang no less than four times in a 2000 yard amble....and I even took a skip down the lane (pretending to pick dandelion leaves for the guinea fowl chicks) so I could have a peek at the damage!!! Anyhow the rest of the day has concentrated on my friend Nigel's visit. Rooms have been prepared and supper made, but I did have a worrying few minutes fussing over the baby turkeys in their new run. I woke up several times during the night, fretful that the cold may be too much for them in the big bad field, but this morning they gave me a chorus of trilling calls when I opened up their run, before bolting down an extra feed of pasta and corn.
I have just realised that I worried about my staff in Sheffield a great deal less than I do over a quartet of skinny turkeys...what does that make me?.
anyhow....coffee break over, it is time to scrub a wayward terrier pee stain from the spare room bed cover.....
hey ho

No news day

Not much has happened today- The Scotties have had their winter haircuts , and both are exhausted from the nervous energy spent with being forced into having a day with strangers.

Finally I have moved the remaining four turkey poults from the claustrophobic shed, into their own coop and run on the field. Two weeks shy of three months old, it is way overdue for them to be "outside", but I wanted to be careful as the little buggers are delicate and susceptible to illness and cold. I am still not sure what sexes I have yet, so I have not named them...with the disaster tha befell poor Wellington, I am loath to take the chance until they are a little more robust

Sandra, from the Flower Show committee has branched out from her single allotment in the centre of the village by buying some hens and two weaner piglets. Both pigs are quite delightful and have been placed on another allotment in order to clear the weeds. I couldn't get a good photo of them this afternoon as the light was fading, but you can make out William's head after he clambered up on the stone wall in order to watch them rooting through the brush

Christmas Song

I was sent this video via email this morning from mum in law Sorrel, I am not quite sure if I think it is cute or ever so slightly creepy

A fan

Now It may surprise some people but I have always been a fan of the tv music show Never Mind the Buzzcocks .. the latest team "leader" is the odd looking Noel Fielding, who over many weeks I have found to be one of the nicest (yes, you can tell!), sharpest and funny stand ups on tv.
I really enjoy his humour AND his humility!

A Case of Less is More

Now I am a little snobby when it comes to Christmas Decorations.....and with thoughts of Yuletide "trimming up", much to the fore, it is definitely a case of out with the tinsel and in with the real Christmas tree!

Trelawnyd is lucky when it comes to public shows of Christmas. Thankfully we are spared the gaudy, Blackpool illumination-esque shows that are dragged up every year in the nearby villages of Dyserth and Meliden, and mercifully we do not have to suffer the fake Christmas trees ( green tinsel wound around a few wire coat hangers) that have been propped up on the shops in Prestatyn.

In Trelawnyd, the village has gone for a rather minimalist approach, as today I spied the conservation group members erecting the single village Christmas tree outside the Memorial Hall.

I always think that when it is lit, the small tree looks rather valiant and brave against the austerity and darkness of winter. It stands alone, with no beaming Father Christmas's or flashing neon "NADOLIG LLAWEN" signs to overshadow it...(Nadolig Llawen is Happy Christmas in Welsh by the way) and I must say the tree always looks appropriate and welcoming in its central spot.

Tonight, with Chris still away, it is a case lighting the fire and finishing off the Christmas cards. I am crammed onto my sofa with all four dogs and Albert in tow..(not one wants to sit on Chris' sofa), Our friend Nigel is visiting Friday and Saturday and I am due to work on Sunday, so at least with Chris away I can concentrate on card writing tonight