The Big Society

The lane has been looking rather scruffy recently, what with weeds mud and great sods of earth banked up against the dry stone wall. ( Believe me the above photo is an "after" shot, so does not show how awful it all looked) The highways department doesn't venture down our lane much, so in celebration of David Cameron's "Big Society" ( or irritation at the mess and what people think of it more like) I got off my arse and cleaned the whole lane border...a task that is rebounding on my lower back as we speak!

So Instead of a nice  hot bath, I am sat at the dining room table with Chris' hot water bottle stuck down the back of my pants - ( I have already received a weird look from Mrs Jones who has just called down for some duck eggs- as I know I had a definite look of Max Wall pic)- but my old bones are benfitting from the warm attention.
As I am waiting for Chris to come home from the airport after a jaunt up to Edinburgh, I thought I'd type another blog entry in between making meatballs and sorting out pancake batter for supper!
Anyhow all morning I have been ringing various builders and workmen in an effort to find a little man to repair our broken chimney pot, but typically , replies have been few and far between.
However this afternoon, as I was leaving yet another message on Steve-the-odd-job man's mobile there was a sudden knock on the cottage window and a local sheep farmer called me to say that he had found Constance on walkabout way down the lane. This surprised me as the last time I had seen her she was snoring on her bed in the kitchen, but out she indeed was after taking herself off for ever-so-slow amble in the sunshine.
The farmer, I know had done a few jobs for Jenny the postmistress , so on impulse I asked him if he would be interested in replacing the cottage chimney pot. After quickly looking at it, he said he would be delighted to! AND for a very reasonable price too!....so it's
Job done! and all thanks to Constance's very first moment of wanderlust......

Constance eating a bagel at lunchtime watched by the hens and Albert

Being British?

I heard a quote once that described the British thus

"They walk into a restaurant as though they are leaving it"

I think that is description remains so very true. Watching the previous clip ( that sort of organised and artificially thrown together holiday) , reminds me just how shy and reserved the Brits in general ( and me in particular) can be.......

Oh I do absolutely HATE  an organised activity.......the thought of donning a large rubber ring and "enjoying myself" by publicly sliding down a 60 foot slide actually turns my stomach into knots and even the prospect of standing in line for a buffet fills me with that kind of dread my grandparents possessed when walking into a nice guest house for the very first time.

I wonder where this public shyness actually comes from?

I wish I could be more like Chris .....he couldn't give a stuff....and reflecting on it, I think that  this British reserve stems from the Childhood teachings of that much hissed phrase of "don't make a fuss!"
Fussing in public is synonymous with embarrassment.....and embarrassment to the Brits is worse than having a serial killer in the family....... believe me I know! I am an expert in public humiliation!

For instance:
I have been recently caught by a bereaved couple who were visiting a loved ones grave swearing loudly at a group of starlings
I broke wind rather loudly in front of a lady in a wheelchair at the supermarket
I once fell face first at the feet of troupe of young women after tying to show Chris how well I could skip
and I am always going to the cinema with forgotten and smelly bags of poo in my pocket( the dogs not mine) causing the people around me to pull faces and whisper to each other....

perhaps I just have a kind of  humiliation death wish.......humm food for thought me thinks.....

Anyhow I am typing this in bed with a post dog walk coffee.
It was 6.55am when I started and its too early for outside jobs as there is a fox around (one of the farmer's lambs was taken).....The dogs will join me on the field all day as vegetable beds need turning over.....there is a lot to do............

Oh and thanks to Jayne and Jess who sent me some info on quail..... my six look to be all female........I wonder if they will lay eggs like hens do without a male.... more answers on a postcard please.......

Benidorm Series 4

The new series of the sit com Benidorm is a bit of a cracker and perfectly captures the blue collar Bits abroad!
This clip reminds me of my good friend Ruth....who always had a bit of a party piece regaling the crowds with the story how she was on holiday for the first time with a boyfriend when she was 18.
Hoping to impress him, she slid down a water chute similar to the one in the clip and as she was not used to the local seafood lunches.....she opened her bowels on the way down when wearing an all in one WHITE bathing suit!
Apparently several quick minded elderly ladies with a couple of plastic rubbish bags ran to her rescue before boyfriend could see the "skunk" stain!
see http://disasterfilm.blogspot.com/2010/05/ruth.html

El Camino del Rey

Today I will be ringing round to get some quotes organised for the repair of the chimney pot.
I know I should be able to climb a ladder and rectify the problem myself, but I cannot climb something over perhaps 6 feet or so!
I am terrified of heights, always have been and although many years ago I actually did a parachute jump, I have never lost that ice cold sickly feeling when my feet are not fully on mother earth!
This video ( nicked from Craig) is hypnotic as it is stomach churning

Red and Sooty Snot

Well in between blowing great clumps of sooty snot out of my nose and sticking my head up a now blocked stone chimney, yesterday afternoon I went into town to sort out a few jobs and called into the video store ( can they be called video stores any more? ---ok...its more like the dvd rental, very expensive chocolate and sad bastard computer gaming shop!)
anyhow when I was in there Carol, the manageress asked me to post an update on Red the Miracle Quail for one of my anonymous followers who had asked her to pass on her request!.....so duty bound to keep people happy here he is...looking rather bad tempered when I let him out of his house this morning.
The 6 quail are now nearly five months old and I still have not a clue what sex any of them are......all I do know is that no tiny and potentially money making eggs have appeared as yet.....

Right ! off for a brief lie in now!..Chris is bored and a little tired at having a cold cottage ( we need a new Chimney pot!- my efforts to clear the blockage yesterday came to nothing!)..so I have posted him a cheerful picture of Lily Tomlin opening up the Australian Mardi Gras  in Sydney......perhaps we should organise our own Trelawnyd Mardi Gras?....now there's a thought
Me and Auntie Glad in kitchen foil on the back of the red faced welsh farmer's hey wagon doing  Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

Guess what I have been doing?

Answers on a bleeding postcard

Guinea Fowl Big Ups

For a fairly small bird which has a strange resemblance to an upturned rugby ball, guinea fowl are the noisiest animals you are likely to run into on a country walk.
For those lucky enough NOT to be privy to their machine gun like warning calls here is a short example of just how devastating their lung power can be!

Our neighbours are very sweet as they never complain when all four birds burst into "song" as it were but I know that when Alf,(above) Hughie and little Ivy get going, I am sure that there are some evil thoughts of murder circulating through various Trelawnyd residents' minds...............
Angostura ( the white "rescue guinea hen) keeps to herself with the older hens in their hen house and does not take up roosting positions with the other birds in the Church Yard trees at night...so at least the volume of the small group is diminished by 25% when they start their daily screaming at the odd unfortunate cat, buzzard and more importantly fox.
Angostura ( so named because her owner described her as being somewhat "bitter with life") will hopefully become a mate for Alf , once she realises that she is indeed a guinea fowl....but in the meantime he follows Hughie and his mate Ivy around like a love suck puppy, ever hopeful for a quick shag in the long grass.

This morning, as on every morning the three outdoor guineas were sitting on the Church wall, waiting for me to feed them.. They have become synonymous with the Graveyard , which they watch over as diligently as sentries of a castle....and I would like to think that they add some more character to a place already steeped in character and history

Famous, Rich And In The Slums

Sometimes a certain scene in a drama or documentary catches you unawares, and opens up the emotions like a window opening up into a rainstorm.
Last night I happened on the BBC documentary Famous, Rich And In The Slums.
The premise of the programme is not new. This time  four ambassadors for the Red Nose Charity (Comedan Lenny Henry, Actress Samantha Womack, DJ Reggie Yates and veteran Newswoman Angela Rippon) are transported to the slums of Kibera in Africa where they have to eek out some sort of existence with the families they are "boarded " with.
Of course the resulting documentary showed much angst and tear staining from the privileged Westerners, and much resilience and dignity from the poor Africans....and as a piece of television , it was  powerful, moving  and of course had the desired effect to galvanise the audience to support the red nose charity.

However it was one fairly short and unexpected clip that had me crying like a baby. In it ,non nonsense Angela Rippon was saying goodbye to a lady with whom she had worked . The two women had walked miles together to scrub clothes for hours on end and I suspect Angela's non flowery but ever so British "let's get on with it" attitude and friendly nature caught the African woman by surprise for when they eventually parted the woman was genuinely upset at the prospect of "her friend" leaving her.
Angela coped with the parting with pragmatism, but she too broke down as she drove away when she realised that the woman was not indeed grieving for a benefactor of sorts, but for the company and support of a fellow woman and friend.
It was Angela's reaction coupled with her guilt at leaving the slum -albeit briefly- ( and probably for a hot shower) that I found so moving.....in a matter of seconds she had the guts to show her personal guilt and shame of being a voyeur to the terrible poverty on show even though she had officially rolled up her sleeves and had gotten stuck in.....

Off to my Brother's house today....and just wanted to end by thanking our  Neighbour Trevor, who after reading my sister's blog on the fund raising  ASDA bagpack last Sunday, came around to our house last night to give his individual donation...it was very sweet of you