Mother Love and Community Council

Badger activity has increased on the field. I know there is a set in the rented grazing fields somewhere nearby and a single boar seems to be living under the old shed on an unused plot of land just behind our cottage.
They are, I will admit beautiful animals, but they are also hefty and destructive predators that will damage flower beds and hedges as well as killing any single hen that can be cornered on their nocturnal exploits.

This morning , I found that Cora's small broody hutch had been rolled over by powerful claws sometime during the night. The hutch was intact and luckily had been knocked onto its front,protecting Cora inside. so I gently righted it and opened the door.
Cora growled gently at me but sat firm on her six eggs and as I checked each one gently for cracks I could only marvel at the plucky mothering instinct these little scraps of birds exhibit when they go broody.
Every spring a handful of my hens have chicks.and with their little brains no larger than an average peanut, they seem to possess all of those enviable mothering emotions , such as concern, pride and affection for chicks no bigger than a cotton reel.
It is a little miracle of evolution and it never fails to move me every time I see it.
Cora's eggs were all intact, and she looked absolutely fine when I checked her over. She fed and drank briefly then settled herself down onto her eggs with a low cluck as I weighted her hutch down with some heavy rocks.

Next week I attend my first Community Council meeting.
I applied to fill a vacancy on the committee before Christmas and was very happy to be accepted   Way back in 2005 I promised myself that when we moved from city to village, that I would make an effort to join in with community  activities. Now, I  am not a particularly committee orientated person, in fact the bread and butter meetings that were the stuff of management within the NHS used to drive me insane, but the older I get, the more interested I have become in what goes on  on my own doorstep and I would like the opportunity to learn more about what community decisions can be made at a grass roots level...

My friend Nigel, suspects that the meetings will be something akin to those seen in  .The Vicar of Dibley......he may be right....but I will keep my thoughts on this one, strangely to myself!

Camilla the actress

. Over the years The Archers' cast has been joined by various famous celebrities, who have popped up in cameo roles in the middle England village . Judi Dench,Ewan Mc Gregor and Terry Wogan, amongst others have chirped up with the odd few words as have Princess Margaret and The Duke Of Westminster, who appeared in the early 1980s in support of the NSPCC.
Last night Camilla the Duchess of Cormwall arrived at Grey Gables (.BBC Camilla story)..she had a "nice chat-et" with the velvet voiced Caroline and waxed lyrically over the too-good-to-be-true Ian, and his shortbread........before popping off to another engagement....but short as it was, her appearance in the 60 year old soap was indeed a bit of a coup for the BBC and I think another small coup for her personally. (Although Camilla, it must be said that you should not give up your "day job"!)
I like Camilla. She is what she is!  a lady of some privilege with a warm personality and a slightly gung ho attitude who doesn't push herself or her thoughts too much down the publics' throat.
She is, in fact a typical upper middle class lady, who could roll her sleeves up with the best of them to help clean the horses out or chop logs or run the local Flower Show......you recognise the sort don't you?.........a lady who may be full of flu that still walks the dogs in the rain cos it "bloody well just needs doing!" 

I look forward to see Queen Camilla in a few years time....with her wellies and headscarf on, driving the 4 x 4 back from Waitrose!
Now I am off to my brother's house. I am going up to help him with his tracheal suction and the like whilst my sister in law gets some jobs done in town....it' will be nice to be useful

The Big Sky,Spring Jobs and Kit Hopkins' slippers!

Local County Councils do come in for a bit of ear bashing from time to time, but I must admit that out own   (Flintshire Council) is pretty good when something needs sorting out. We have two street lights in our lane,and both are attached to telephone poles. Recently both have not been working, and over the past few weeks, (before they were unfortunately fixed this morning), I have absolutely LOVED walking the dogs down the lane in the darkness. Without that harsh, yellow neon glow, suddenly the vague night sky had been transformed from a blank backdrop into something out of a sci fi movie and every evening I have stopped quietly by the sheep field gates soaking in the cold black beautiful big sky of the night.


If I had  my way, I would switch off the village street lights after 11pm......

William and Meg

The day has been sunny and springlike and for the first time this year, the dogs have joined me on the field from 8am as I worked away cleaning the coops and tidying the carnage caused by the awful winter weather.Meg and William still cannot be left to free range with the poultry, their pure terrier instincts are too ingrained and strong to prevent a massacre, but George and Constance can be left to their own devices. George remains a terrible egg stealer and potters away checking each coop in turn for any spare eggs to eat whereas Constance remains rather non plussed with the whole chicken thing
There was once minor "stand off" when the Geese stood their ground between me and her ( below) but apart from that, peace reigned for the most part.

Bulldog versus  geese

As I tidied up the compost bins,cleared dead wood, fixed fencing and disinfected coops, Constance ambled around the field very slowly checking on each pen and enclosure in turn.
For a city dog, she remained very calm and composed as she did her rounds, peering intently inside each hen house with her little piggy eyes before plonking herself in the centre of the field, where she watched the morning pass her by in the warmth of the sun.

Constance in thoughtful mode

By a late lunchtime, I had all but finished, so took the opportunity to deliver eggs . On my rounds I was stopped by Mrs Hopkins ( you my recall she was the lady that knitted my winter mittens), she called me into her bungalow to try on a pair of hand kitted slippers she had made for me, and like Cinderella they fitted perfectly!

Now don't be fooled by the slightly "pixie" and schizophrenic look of these individualised pieces of footwear ( I especially love the little pom poms) they ARE totally the most comfortable house slippers I have EVER owned......I wonder what's next? knitted underpants?

True Grit

Anyone over say 35, will ( or should) remember the  much tv shown 1969 western True Grit. What usually sticks in the memory about the Henry Hathaway movie is the warm no holds barred performance by John Wayne as the fat one eyed old Marshall who is softened by, Kim Darby's, spunky Mattie Ross, a teenager looking to avenge her father's death. The sight of him attacking the Ned Pepper gang to the strains of Elmer Bernstein, reins gripped in his teeth and with all guns a blazing, lingers long in my movie soaked mind, so it was great interest that I went to see the Coen Brother's remake this afternoon.

True Grit ( the remake) is a much darker and a totally different movie than its predecessor.The Coens have all but eliminated the sentimental touches that Wayne and Darby generated. Instead, the affection that crusty old drunk Rooster Cogburn ( Jeff Bridges ) has for the precocious Mattie (Hailee Steinfeld ) is all but hidden away until the very final moments of action, and in its place  a powerful unsaid respect between man and girl can be seen in the odd phrase or telling glance ( watch the uplifting crossing of the river scene and you'll get my drift)
Bridges' Cogburn is a gruff, growling man who spits out his words like an old bear. Unlike in the 1969 movie, he is not Mattie's replacement father, however he does "blossom" under her forcefully, clever and slightly bullying ways.and the interplay between Rooster, Mattie and the self indulgent but emotionally warm Ranger, La Boeuf (Matt Damon) makes for a more interesting movie, a movie which is more a three headed love story than a  Western action piece.

Wisely the Coen brothers mirror the pace of the movie with the atmospheric use of the  hymn " Leaning on the Everlasting Arms  " ( Funnily enough it was the hymn that the psychotic preacher Robert Mitchum sang constantly in Night Of The Hunter) The music soundtrack is not uplifting, it is tough and a little harsh, a thing that is reflected again in the impressive cinematography of the austere countryside,and in the narrative of the film itself, which underlines the "life is cheap" mentality of Indian territory of the 1880s.
Surprisingly there is very little action in this atmospheric movie, but when the action does surface, it does so with power and some shocking violence
Jeff Bridges gives Rooster a hard edge that was perhaps missing from Wayne's  shouting performance, and Hailee Steinfield is absolutely amazing as the tough, wisecracking and emotionally hardened Mattie, who only shows her softness in one short telling scene with the rather good Damon.
I enjoyed this movie and give it a cracking 8.5 out of 10
But you know what?. for a couple of minutes, I did miss fat old John Wayne riding out and yelling "Fill your hands, you son of a bitch! "

Him Indoors

Last week, I was asked by the ubiquitous Bea Fickle why the illusive Chris remains a somewhat shadowy character here on the Going Gently blog 
The answer is a simple one, he prefers to remain in the wings.
Chris has a healthy disregard for the potential damage that personal blogs can have on peoples' lives and I respect this fact as I am only too aware that what you write can sometimes come back to snap at a person's arse at a later date!

So, dear readers you may occasionally only get a glimpse of Chris amid the flotsam of Going Gently....A pure, clear cut, University based PhD academic, I think Chris finds my emotional view of animal husbandry, sentimental view of life and particular lack of personal grooming somewhat baffling, but generally will put up with needs of 100 hungry mouths and the emotional jacuzzi of my personality with some alacrity  Having said this he will sometimes be pushed to breaking point - ( sixteen shit flinging runner ducklings on the kitchen table almost bounced him into therapy)....but for the most part he enjoys the country life a little vicariously as he writes his academic papers and completes his research.

The runner ducklings that almost pushed Chris to the brink

Last night we swapped Valentine gifts. Its not something we have done for years, but independently he treated me to some theatre tickets ( to see one of my favourite musicals- Guys And Dolls) and I treated him to some toiletries.

It was a nice gesture.....Him Indoors and I have many years together to go.....

Praise for Jesus

Minutes before I left for work last night there was a knock at the door.
It was a  lady who had come to the field a week or two ago to buy hens at point of lay. I had sent her up another hen breeder to purchase her new hens , but before she went on her way discussed that she may want to have a cockerel at some stage to keep her hens happy and together.
Last night she came around to see if I had a "spare" cockerel that she may have and without hesitation I offered her Jesus.
Jesus was abandoned on the field by some anonymous soul two Christmases ago.
He was a frightened adolescent cockerel , with little confidence and a nasty dose of scaly leg mite, but even though I already had too many cockerels I sort of had a soft spot for the sad looking unwanted male, who had been thrown out like the Christmas wrapping paper on Boxing day!...
so I kept him

His legs were treated on a daily basis and after a difficult period of bullying by the resident Cockerel , Stanley,, Jesus has spent the past year in his own little run away from fighting beaks and rampant sex.....and so I was chuffed that I had eventually found him his own home, with his own garden and his own goo goo eyed harem.

Right, coffee has been drunk! and I can now face the day without any sleep...off to bath the dogs

Trauma

What is the height of post Night shift fatigue?

When you get home and push your knife slowly into a lovely onion bagel with fried egg

Only to see the said breakfast slide majestically off your plate and onto the back of a Hairy Scottish terrier then plop onto the floor!

Having said this... I picked it up and scoffed it before Chris saw me

Off to bed

Hoarding

Recently, in debate, I was asked what I thought about the subject of "animal hoarding" ( the person doing the asking ,  I was later to find out was being somewhat snide). I had never heard of the term before and asked for some clarification which I did not receive, so today I had a quick look at the definition of the phrase

Wikipedia states:-

Animal hoarding involves keeping higher than usual numbers of animals as pets without having the ability to properly house or care for them, while at the same time denying this inability. Compulsive hoarding can be characterized as a symptom of mental disorder rather than deliberate cruelty towards animals. Hoarders are deeply attached to their pets and find it extremely difficult to let the pets go. They typically cannot comprehend that they are harming their pets by failing to provide them with proper care. Hoarders tend to believe that they provide the right amount of care for their pets.[1] The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals provides a "Hoarding Prevention Team", which works with hoarders to help them attain a manageable and healthy number of pets.[2]


Years ago, I was a psychiatric nurse in Chester and York, and never came across this phenomenon before, (although I have had experience of patients hoarding bodily waste, household rubbish and the like---yes charming!)
I found the above article an interesting read and was reassured to realise that I am not quite at this stage just yet .
The human mind never ceases to amaze me in it's abilities to play tricks on itself, and although the whole subject is fascinating, I don't regret leaving psychiatric nursing for one minute.
It's just too complex