Shit day

How the mighty have fallen!
Yesterday I was bathed in glory after my unexpected "Internet" award.
Today I am having night sweats and what can only be described as "explosive bowels!"

I was wide awake well before dawn (I should have been asleep as I stayed up late to watch the "disaster movie" Black Rain)...so I dragged the dogs from their slumbers and took them for an early morning walk.
BAD IDEA!
As I reached the far lane, I felt some rather worrying and uncomfortable "grumblings" -down below...and then felt that awful uncontrollable gut lurch which signifies an immediate...and well shall we say uncontrollable....result?

The dogs all looked slightly confused,as desperately trying to control my growing hysteria I clenched my bum as tight as I could and minced all the way back to the cottage like an Olympic walker.......

sigh

Anyway an early morning visit to Salisbury's to buy loperimide and another "visit" to their very clean-I-must-say restrooms....and I was feeling a little more in control...........
When I got home, all Chris would say was
"It's those bloody birds!"
I got on with making his breakfast as he yelled again
"WASH YOUR HANDS!"
Hey ho

...and the envelope please!

I have just won the prestigious Laughing Horse Award for best Overall Blog 2010!

Thank you to the urbane, witty and educated judge Yorkshire Pudding for choosing my blog over a whole plethora of .interesting despot writings...........
He has a degree
so is a wise man!

In Memoriam

The following post...is a kind of "in memoriam" review of 2010!
In true Oscar style, I think there should be some moving yet uplifting music to accompany the words!
play this and read on!

Animal review 2010

In Memoriam : a review of the Year


The biggest disaster for us in 2010 was Maddie's death (see " A curved Ball")
At seven she was still a relatively young dog when through some unfortunate medical care we lost her and the cottage remains a quieter place without her irascible bad temper and maiden aunt presence.

Maddie was our first Scottie, and her personality was a blue print for the breed. Tough,loyal,mistrusting of strangers and quietly self contained, she was not a dog who enjoyed fuss or cuddling, but she was a delightful old fashioned breed who maintained order within the dog pack by stopping any bicker of fight stone dead in its tracks.
I still miss her dreadfully.

I had some minor losses within the poultry population. The odd fox snatch here and the odd badger kill there. They were all opportunistic kills, older hens not making it back to base at night or young cockerels not having the sense to move home when the need arise.......and one in particular upset me more than the others. My tame buff Lily was an old favourite hen. Benign and unafraid, she would sit on my knee or clamber up onto my stomach when I was cloud watching, where she would sit unperturbed for ages.
She was a real sweetie.

The last loss that still lingers long in my mind, was the strange and rather moving death of an elderly Indian runner duck named Nell. In  the height of a beautiful summer's day, her bittersweet end perhaps underlines just why keeping animals can be so addictive, moving and at times essentially satisfying ( Blog entry- an odd little moment)

The pigs left us earlier in the year (they are now happily pregnant in a zoo in Cambridgeshire) and whole groups of ducklings and hen chicks have moved on to new homes locally and in Huddersfield!, which is nice.

And so we acknowledge the losses and now celebrate the new arrivals of 2010.

The geese Winnie and Jo have been two of my biggest joys of 2010.
As goslings they followed me everywhere and pandered to my constant need to be needed and to be carer..and as vocal adults they provide me with noisy company throughout the day on the field.
I would not be without them now

The saga of the ghost hens has captured the imagination of many throughout the year, and the arrival of these waifs and strays has proved to be one of my biggest successes this year. Bred to last a matter of weeks, three out of the original six runts have somehow survived the limitations of their over bred bodies and have enjoyed a free range life of dirty bums and Welsh fresh air.
Looking like Nick Parks' Chicken run animations, these three porkers lead a charmed life, and have repaid me tenfold by blossoming from cowed scraps of beak and feathers into buxom girls who after six months of hard work started to act like proper hens......they lay the occasional egg for me too!

 Speaking of eggs..this morning when I let out the new charity case hens ( The Belles of St Trinians) -above) there in the hen house were three large brown eggs......! after only three weeks of intensive care, good food and a bit of TLC this maltreated motley bunch of hasbeens have now turned the corner......another minor victory me thinks

In the autumn I hatched out the six quail with Red "the miracle quail" surviving his marathon 16 hour stint in a cold incubator..all are doing well on the field now and amateur cook Ian from the village is desperately looking forward in his hopeful supply of quail eggs in the spring!.............

and last but not least, the arrival of   Constance "the flatulent" and over affectionate bulldog has kept everyone on their toes.and although at first I thought she was going to be Chris' dog....the reality of the situation has been somewhat different!

Who knows where 2011 will lead?
We will have our share of disasters where trips to the vets and emotional goodbyes will be power for the course....but I am sure the field population will grow again with many more characters and the odd charity case or two...............
watch this space
x 

A real blast from the past!

Tom over at "Compact but adorable" was feeling crook all yesterday and today it is my turn. Chris is still prostrate on the couch with a duvet and "Midsommer Murders" so I have been a right little soldier and with a "once more unto the breach" mentality, I have walked the dogs and fed and cleaned out  the stock as well as cooked the meals and completed the shopping!
Oh what a martyr!!!
As I was dragging my carcass back to the cottage ( dressed in a pair of black, bleach stained pants with a broken zip and a ripped anorak) a car pulled up next to the field and three people got out. The male driver looked sort of familiar, but I had no idea who he and the woman or the teenage boy with him were, and I just had to smile broadly when he came over and shook my hand warmly
He obviously knew me, but I was at a complete loss who they were!
Now, I have to smile at myself, for I should have been honest from the start and admitted that I was at a loss,,, but embarrassment took over and after a minute of "vague"pleasantries I invited all three into the house for a cup of tea!
I hurried ahead of them, saying I was just going to lock the dogs away and galloped into the cottage where I hissed at Chris ( still inert on the sofa)
"I've just invited three people in for tea and I have NO idea who any of them are even though they seem to know me!!!"
The sick man grabbed his duvet and bolted upstairs leaving me to face one of the most potentially cringe worthy situations since my testicle fell out of a hole in my jeans in the Crucible Theatre foyer!
Testicle Blog click here
The trio came into the cottage and Constance's hysterical welcome broke the ice (and covered my embarrassment just a little further) just until the man pointed to a photograph of my grandmother on the family photo wall and said "ahh there's my gran!"

My Grandmother a year before she died

Then the penny dropped!
The guy was my cousin Mathew!
I had not seen Mathew for over 20 years. He is my uncle Jim's youngest son.and Jim was my mother's "baby" brother who lives in Rotherham in South Yorkshire.

I had lost contact with Jim before my mother died many years ago now. Her somewhat self destructive behaviour near the end of the life alienated her from my sisters and forced her admission to a residential home.
It was a horrid no win situation for all and the bad feelings of the situation meant that contact with Jim was curtailed somewhat........this unexpected reunion with my cousin  had been orchestrated by Jim, and although totally out of left field, the visit was much appreciated.

Mathew, is now a Captain in the army and is a big sociable and thoroughly amiable guy (the spit of his father in fact) and it was lovely to catch up with him and his wife and son after so long.
When I realised that my Uncle specifically asked Mathew to call in I am resolved to write to my Uncle who is now a frail 82 year old ,tomorrow.
It will be nice to touch base with him after so many years

(Left to right) Grandad, Sister Ann , JIM, my mother, Jim's first wife and my gran

Boys of BOSTON flag football Jai Ho for Ellen Degeneres!

I can feel my own flu coming on!
Chris is still in intensive care in the bedroom!
I thought I would watch this AGAIN to cheer myself up

Man Flu

me.....ever the cheerful and sweet natured nurse! yeah right!

Chris has the flu.
He has been confined to bed with William and George
and I am on full nursing duties.
Despite his high temperature and rigors, he has  managed  to eat a whole bowl of Moroccan soup, a plate of Chinese sesame prawn toast and has watched most of his Christmas pressie dvd box set of the tv series  Foyle's War....so I am hoping he may be pulling back from the brink just a tad!
The day is grey, windy and wet. The thaw has arrived and I am waiting for the field to become waterlogged once again. Leaving Chris to sleep, I took the dogs onto the beach for a run, Constance now enjoys her walks with the other dogs and I took the chance to walk her publicly today even though she is in season.
The beach was deserted when I got there but within a minute of letting the dogs free.a large, testosterone filled sheepdog suddenly appeared over the sand dunes and made a beeline for Constance, who wagged her back end into his face  like a provocative  and sluttier Jessica Rabbit.

Constance and Meg keep me company whilst Chris battles with flu 

Funnily enough it was George who broke up this potential disastrous sexual liaison, and he chased off the huge sheepdog baying like a miniature banshee!
The dog's owner, a mousy middle aged lady, then started to shout at me, demanding that I stop George from being aggressive !
I laughed and  pointed at him "He's only 9  inches soddin high!!!" I said...."what  bloody harm can he do?"
Hummm, I had to eat my words slightly as the sheepdog yelped past with George clamped firmly to his tail........I am not too good at apologising
Owners and their dogs eh?
Right....I am off to make the invalid a cup of tea ( he told me that his breakfast tea was not stirred properly)....then its more spaghetti for the birds......despite the thaw....winter is still with us...and I am starting to feel a bit snuffly

The object of affection

We all I think go for a certain type!
For me, it is the slightly scruffy, twinkly Matt Cardle type ( really I hear you say? I would never have guessed?)
Chris (believe it or not) likes a floppy haired , well dressed toff
(I am such a disappointment)  and I guess animals are no different in ways of a lusty heart.
As the thaw started, perhaps the faraway thoughts of spring  have galvanised testosterone levels within the meagre male population of the field and Halleh has once again started to stalk any brown hen that crosses his path!
Before the 10  brown rescue hens arrived a couple of weeks ago, I only had two brown chickens, and every spring their life would be made a complete misery by the unwanted sexual advances of the drake that has a "thing" for dusky poultry!
Now he has 12 brown hens to choose from, so with blood-a-pumping , and that slightly "wild" look in his eye, Halleh resembles that slight "kid in a sweetshop" type of character as he first would grab one hen by the tail or wing then another as she ran past him squawking loudly.
When this happens I have found that a smart whack with a tin feeding bowl is usually just enough for him to come to his senses, but today I need not have worried too much as one of the new rescue hens literally saw her arse with his unwanted libido and whopped him within an inch of his life  
The circle of life continues
Christmas is over!
and.............Constance is still rubbing her fanny on the living room carpet
Hey ho

Don Juan