Thomas Crown Affairs title sequence by Pablo Ferro

Wild domesticity and Sherlock gets better and Better

This morning I have been on catch up after the weekend. I caught two of the junior flock (the chicks that hatched in the spring) and had them ready for one of the sisters at work to collect to augment her small flock. I refused any payment for them ( this sister is a delight to work with) but she did present me with a large bag of corn, a bottle of wine and a huge chocolate cake in lieu of payment which was very kind.
Swapping favours and materials is common in the country and I always make an effort to do people a favour as it were as often people will always remember a kindness. Today one of the old farmers stopped for some eggs, and as usual I refused any payment simply saying that he can do me a favour "whenever"..........In the future I know, there will be perhaps a bag of sawdust for the coops or a small bag of wheat left by the gate when I am least expecting it.

So this morning I have sorted the bedding out for our guests later in the week ( remember Chris' dad and 7 year old nephew are visiting) and have just had enough time to drop some scones and eggs in for Rowenna ( a very distant relative of mine that lives in the village) she has recently had her hip replaced and is just battling through her mobilizing rehab. I have been meaning to call around but the allotment open seemed to have monopolized my time somewhat.

Anyhow.....while I was busy nature seems to have governed the domestic side of the allotment animals, Bingley (above) the Bourbon stag escaped from his enclosure and sought out the convalescing Boris, who has always been somewhat of a Nemesis.
The younger male has obviously sensed that the more powerful Boris is still well under par, and has taken advantage of the older male's weakness.
When I came home, I found Bingley, all puffed up and fraught inside Boris' enclosure with Boris nowhere to be seen.........the old guy has somehow squeezed through the small poophole in the hen house and was sitting in the safety of the coop well out of the way of Bingley and his vicious beak and claws....For a turkey this show of brains is a rarity believe me

The goslings also have been stretching their natural aggressive wings and spied a local ( and unknown to them) family visiting the field when I was inside cleaning the kitchen floor.
As young as they are , their innate instinct to protect their territory from strangers kicked in and I could hear their angry honking from the cottage. The family has warily fended off the youngsters but I was incredibly pleased that my planned "watchdogs" had started to do their job!

This lunchtime I have been busy shelling, freezing and cooking a glut of fresh peas. Thank goodness for BBC i player, as I also had the opportunity to watch the final Sherlock series episode entitled The Great Game.
Steven Moffit and Mark Gatiss has wisely kept the best story till last and I thought the whole episode was a masterclass in style, content and acting as Sherlock ( the immensely watchable Benedict Cumberbatch) and his only friend Watson (Martin Freeman) finally do direst battle against a remarkably evil and surprisingly young Moriarty.
The plot had more twists and turns to keep even the most avid Holmes fan entertained and Cumberbatch lends just a little more depth to the genius psychopath's irritating and self obsessed personality in a remarkably light performance.
To my American readers, try watching this episode on BBC i player (http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/) I do so hope you are able to access it.
9/10

Flower Show Prep

I always enjoy the Flower Show Committee meetings; they are always a bit of a bun fight.
Overseen by the matriarchs Sylvia and Irene , who have been running the event longer than I have been a nurse, we thrashed out the smaller details of the day, such as who does what with who and generally everything was sorted out by the time we drank cups of tea out of china cups around Auntie Gladys' kitchen table and ate her "world famous" buttered scones which had been baked that morning especially for the meeting.
Our committee comprises of an interesting cross section of Trelawnyd Villagers. As well as the "matriarchs" and Auntie Gladys ,of course ( who has been on the committee 58 years!!) we have a sensible school teacher. two affable couples who have taken early retirement, a working mum, a businessman, a part time carer and of course, me.
Of course we had some minor blips ( none of the Children's cup have bee returned from the previous school winners including our own donated "Finlay memorial Cup") but I guess it will all come out in the wash

Ticking a box

My Brother (right) walked the height of Snowdon in miserable conditions supported by his son ( my nephew) Jon, Brother in law Tim (pictured left) and two ski sticks!
He has exhibited a strength of will inherited from our formidable Gran Fry and after the trek didn't retire to his bed as most of us would have done but jumped into a frenzy of more work by acting as a musical technician at a local concert.
We are all very proud of him

seeing

As the laptop is in the bedroom with me, I felt the compulsion to get this little vignette of village life "on blog" as it were.
I slept for four hours then got up with my t shirt the wrong way round to make sure the animals were all watered and that Boris got his extra titbits. My friend Geoff and some visiting family called around for eggs so as I was seeing to them, I hardly noticed four walkers standing my the cottage wall. A young man was linking arms with an older man and both were admiring the back garden, so I left them to it,said a quick hello and went inside to collect some egg boxes. It was only after I had passed them for a second time did I realise that the younger man was blind and that the older chap was "showing" him a buddliea flower by describing it carefully as the blind man felt and smelt it.
I had almost overlooked this little moment in time due to over tiredness..hey ho
Off to bed again

Bliss

It is ages since I have done two night shifts together.
Unlike my normal "no sleep and get on with things", I have got to go to bed during much of today so that I can face another shift tonight.
So Chris has just fed me a nice cooked breakfast, I have no dogs to walk and have just fed and watered the birds so I can climb into a clean crisp bed without the guilt of jobs to do.
Our bed is quiet! and empty.....without the usual cacophony of grunts,farts and dog dreaming woofs it is now a haven of peace and tranquility where I can spread out in peace and decadence....
bliss

The Ghost

Today is wet and misty. I am working night shift tonight and tomorrow night, so I wanted us to "do something" this afternoon to ensure that the weekend was not a total bust.

So we went to theatre Clwyd to see Polanski's The Ghost.

It wasn't a half bad thriller , well that is for a rainy miserable afternoon that is and I liked the showy cast of thesps:.Pierce Brosnan, Olivia Williams ( a particular fav of mine), Kim Cattrall (a nice cool and sassy performance here) and the ubiquitous Tom Wilkinson, not to mention surprise pop ups by an almost skeletal Eli Wallach and a bald James Belushi.

The plot centring around the ghost writer for an ex British PM's biography, a CIA plot and murder, is far fetched to say the least but the direct comparison with the grinning Tony Blair is pleasing enough for the audience to enjoy and Polanski's use of a wintery New England and a strange colour tint to the filming makes for an interesting movie.

Don't look Nigel

but I gave it an 8/10

The raping of the hens

Chatting to neighbour Mandy over the compost heap yesterday, I was in an ideal position to see the sex crazed drake Halleh molesting another juvenile Hen. Being adopted by a hen, has given this handsome drake a penchant for nubile young chickens and 2 poor hybrids Ripley and Newt have been repeatedly flattened, mouthed and harassed by him
Mandy watched open mouthed when I interrupted our conversation with a sharp "oi!!!!!" and on impulse and with some frustration I lobbed a metal feeding bowl at the duck as he tottered past with his mouth full of hen feathers.
The bowl unexpectedly clacked Halleh on the head, and the poor thing stopped and immediately fell over, shaking violently.
"Bloody hell!" I cried to Mandy "I think I've killed him"
Mandy got on with her weeding, used to the somewhat bizarre goings on on the field, but as I checked on Halleh she did ask "well?............is he alright?"
In fact he was alright.....well, eventually that is.
He came around slowly, shaking his head from side to side then went to sulk in a patch of nettles for the rest of the afternoon.
Gawd I felt guilty, and checked on him occasionally, just in case he suffered a delayed subdural haematoma.
Every time I found him, he watched me warily with beady black eyes following my every move.......