Who says men can't multi task?

It's been a busy day. With Chris' colleague coming to stay later, "operation dog snot removal" has been continued with renewed vigour. Beds have been made, dusting has been done and various doggy stains and smells removed with much scrubbing and bleaching!
In between all this I managed to separate the three definite juvenile cockerels from out of the St Trinian group and take them to the wildlife animal centre on the other side of Flintshire. I couldn't quite face the prospect of culling these skinny little hybrids as none have any meat on them, and I knew that the chap that runs the rescue centre has a big hen house with room enough for some lucky bachelors.......yes I know...we both are a bit of a soft touch

I came home, walked the goslings and after them, the dogs then made a load of home made fishcakes from scratch AND an apple pie (God I am good!, read 'em and weep Delia Smith)...

This afternoon I have dug up another bucket of potatoes, delivered duck eggs to Ann ( to make the cakes for her Flower Show) and cleaned the detritus from inside the Berlingo.......The state of the car would make a gladiator faint believe me!
I am now writing this ( with my first coffee of the day) then I am off to deliver more eggs, buy some milk and cream from the supermarket and then clean out the duck house before walking the dogs again.
Only then I will have time to recheck the guest bedroom ( George thoughtfuly pooed in there this morning),and scrub the toilet!

...............and people wonder why I only work one shift in the hospital a week!!!

Dusk Observations

I wrote this when I was on fox watch a while ago, and have only just remembered I saved it on the laptop...

Another lazy blog but it kind of underlines the pace of the field!

........It is 8.30 and the evening remains warm, dry and quiet. I am sat under the elm which borders the Churchyard and from this advantage point I can see every corner of the field. No sightings of Mr Fox as yet!

George is sat quietly in Maddie's old spot at my feet and the Welsh terriers are tied up next to the water butts and look asleep in the evening sun. Everything seems calm and serene.

The pace of the animals is slowing down in preparation for the night. The four female turkeys have separated from their daytime meet up and in two groups of two are ambling slowly towards their respective stags. Jane and Lizzy (the slate and Bourbon girls) make their way down towards Bingley in the far pig house and Gloria and an almost bald Theresa wait patiently just a few feet away. They know I will be shortly moving them into their shelter with Boris, who is still huffing and puffing away in the back ground.

The indian runners stand uncertainly just beyond the turkeys. They are eyeing me nervously and are also waiting for me to direct them into their duckhouse. I am late tonight and they know it............. and I am just that little bit amused that it seems to bother them.

The hens are all gliding their way to their own hen houses in groups of two and three. The buffs swinging their fat bottoms as they walk heavily home. The only birds that don't move home wards are the six battery hens in the furthest coop. They remain still and silent in a sad looking flat group in the warmth of the sun, yet the very fact they have all taken the chance to leave the safety of the hen house proves to me that at least the natural light and heat they now feel is in fact healing.

The two new foals in the field beyond the stream are galloping around is silly circles together and I can see Albert sitting on top of the Church wall watching them with some interest before he jumps down into the grass and rubs his head against those of William and Meg waking both dogs up.

The guinea fowl totter past and leap the 6 feet to enter the old Graveyard. They chatter noisily when they spy Albert, then move on to sit under their roosting tree, muttering to themselves like grumpy old people

I take a long measured breath in, as one of the roosters crow

I am home

70 years on

It is the 70th anniversary of the Battle of Britain.
I have been reminded of this fact many times recently, as a local aircraft enthusiast often guns his ancient Spitfire in the skies over Rhiallt Hill over the valley.
A few years ago, Chris and I went to a "Battle of Britain memorial" at Chatsworth House (http://www.chatsworthblog.org/) We sat on the lawns of the great house with a picnic and listened to a concert of patriotic music and songs, and I remember well, the quite magical arrival of a Lancaster Bomber and its accompanying Spitfire escort.
The singer Aled Jones was belting out one of his set pieces when a ripple went through the audience. Someone had noticed the elderly planes flying low up the valley towards the Stately home, and one by one the crowd turned their backs on the stage to face the approaching planes.
As the Lancaster roared into the view the crowd went wild cheering and waving their Union Jacks, and both planes dipped their wings in response....
The sense of awe and pride for something that happened over a half century before was amazing, and I find it more than a little sad that the generations that lived through the war, like my mother and grandparents, have all now died away
Today's generations have no real idea of what really happened .

I'm gay and a lot of fun!!! (apparantly)

Chris has an esteemed colleague staying over with us on Wednesday, so today I have been busy completing "operation dog snot removal" .... the cottage now looks half decent

Last night we went to my Nephew Peter's 40th birthday party.
We were late (locking up the hens have some negatives) and got there around 9.45pm. The party had been running since 4pm, so only a few die hards were left, and most of the party goers were watching the Spain/Netherlands World Cup Final on a plasma tv set up outside!

My sister and Brother in law had enjoyed the afternoon celebrations by having a few beers and I had to laugh to myself, when my Ann introduced us to a couple of Peter's mates that we didn't know......
Ann, when squiffy, has a tendency to "over egg the pudding" when social interactions are concerned.......she means nothing by it, but can be amazingly inappropriate sometimes!!
Here is a snippet of the introduction

"This is John My brother...he's gay........and very funny!!!!
This is Chris....he's gay!!!
They both are very good fun!!!
and very funny!!!"
They're gay
Hahahaha!"

How the hell do you react to that? Thank god Chris was standing behind me where I couldn't see him....but I could sense his Mr Spock eyebrows rising above his forehead!!!!!!!
Lol.....I smiled weakly! as did the main guy we were being introduced to........he was fairly smashed, which probably complicated his ability to work out just were my sister was going with this mode of conversation! so wisely he remained silent......
what else could you actually say to "he's gay and lots of fun!!!"
Perhaps "congratulations" may have been appropriate.......

She cracks me up! usually when she is tired and emotional, she bangs on about Chris being a Doctor!..............

tee hee

goslings.

I know, it's lazy blogging, but just wanted to show you just how big Winnie and Jo are after just three weeks of hatching.

They seem terrified of the turkeys and other birds and kept close to "mom" during their time on the field. I will blog properly later...have an amusing family story to share

Spartacus has a sad end

Spartacus the deformed eating hen died in the night. Her sad little body a testament to the uncaring factory farm where she came from. The five remaining hens seem healthy enough, even though they are light runty little birds with bad skin.
Mike at the The Halpern Homestead http://mrandmrshalpern.blogspot.com/ I think lost quite a few of his young eating birds.

Working this morking...too tired to blog properly this afternoon!

Suo Gan - A Welsh Lullaby

I remember this being central to the music in the Movie EMPIRE OF THE SUN...but I didn't know it was in fact a Welsh lullaby

£12.50 a worm

Ann, my elder sister runs the Prestatyn Flower Show, and this year she organised a " Worm Charming" competition in order to publicise the main show which takes place at the end of July.

Chris' eyebrows did a Mr Spock when I informed him this morning that he was worm charming in my team (we are representing the Trelawnyd Flower Show!) and reluctantly he grabbed hold of the cheap rake we had bought for the occasion and smacked hell out of the metre square of vicarage garden lawn for the allotted half hour.


My sister Janet (below) took the plot next to ours and employed some nifty footwork in her efforts to raise the worms from their slumbers. but the little buggers remained stubbornly elusive!!!

I think the organisers forgot that we have experienced one of the driest summers for many a year, and the lawn was like a slab of concrete, but after 30 minutes banging, shouting and sweating Janet had found just two worms and we had found two!!! The other 8 teams managed a somewhat disappointing 3 worms amongst them

The adjudicator ruled in our favour! (one of Janet's worms had died of shock) and we won the prize money of 25 quid....which was a real bonus.