Winnie is a woman

We went out for dinner last night......it doesn't happen too often, but the treat was much appreciated and enjoyed as the food in our local restaurant The Barrow, was beautiful!
I enjoyed too many Pinot's and retired to bed happy and well filled at 10pm ( early for me)
This morning I felt fine so bounced onto the field with a spring in my step to let the animals out only to find Winnie, the white gander, quiet and noticeably lethargic in his goose house.
I coxed him out onto the grass and gave him some water which he drank politely and then he sat down with his big blue eyes carefully watching me.
I crept forward and stroked his head and gave him the once over.........it was not long before I found out his problem.....for out of his bottom protruded "his" first and rather large goose egg

A few small grunts later, and with me lending some ineffectual morale support, out popped Winnie's egg., which she sniffed at briefly before tottering off to the pond....

And me, Mr Smart arse was convinced that she was a gander!

Violence and sex

Its spring
and the testosterone is flying.
As usual the few males that inhabit the field are turning their heads towards sex and like drunken yobs that seem to frequent all of our towns, cities and villagers nowadays, the drakes and turkeys are turning to thuggery to get what they want.
As the local builder and odd job man  fixed our broken chimney (at a very reasonable rate I might add), I diverted myself from not being able to venture up his ladder to survey the work (I felt like a real old queen when I told him I was too frightened) and spent an hour or so bolting my small polytunnel to mother earth

small but beautifully formed

When my back was turned, petty rivalries and male posturing within the turkey ranks boiled over and Bingley the Bourbon red stag, escaped his enclosure and set upon the more timid and older Boris with Jane and Lizzy (his females) getting stuck in like two drunken slags on the Jeremy Kyle show.
This "pack" behaviour of "getting stuck in" seems to be a rather unpalatable feature of turkey society  and as usual it it the weakest ( in this case the gentle white females- Gloria and Theresa) that got caught in the crossfire and bore the brunt of the attack.

By the time I heard the cries of the injured, it was all but over.....The evil eyed Lizzy had pulled away (probably saying in turkey language "Leave him Bingley he's not worth it"!" with Jane in tow, but both females couldn't quite resist a final barrage of pecks (this time at a passing and totally innocent buff orphington)...precipitating my Sigourney Weaver-ish shout of "get away from her you Bitches!"....hummm very theatrical!

I found Boris hiding in the turkey house ruffled but otherwise ok....but Gloria had been pecked and clawed nastily and repeatedly on her back and wing and Theresa had a wound on her neck.

I shut Bingley away ( resolving myself to sell him and his bitches at the first opportunity-and smiled grimly that the money will go towards a goat!) as  I treated the wounded with some purple antibacterial spray.

Gloria and Theresa after the attack

Now all is peaceful and the female turkeys are mixing as though nothing had happened. Bingley is back in his enclosure and the hole in the fencing repaired. Despite having their beaks clipped, turkeys can inflict some damage when they have a mind to............The three trouble shooters will be going...the "for sale" poster has already been drafted......................

A Morale Booster

As you all know my brother and his wife are living with the daily grind that is Motor Neurone Disease. Laughs or even smiles can be few and far between at the moment, so I am sure my sister's latest blog entry has gone a long, long way in raising morale and eliciting a quiet chuckle. If you have a spare minute, go and see what she has done.........and leave her a comment
 see Supporting Andrew Blog
......my Brother's comment is worth a look too.............
A lovely little moment of kindness me thinks.................

Iris DeMent

Ok we have gone from the ridiculous ( my previous "Nipple" blog) to the sublime (Iris Dement's True grit version of Leaning on the Everlasting Arms)
I am not a country music fan but this song is rather wonderful
I took Chris to see True Grit tonight and he loved it!

Pc " Nipples" and Pc "Ball Sack"

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Pissed off

I have shaken my black mood
Being a bit fed up has basically bored me more than anything, and when needy Meg curled up for the 100th time on my knee (beating Constance to the punch-so-to-speak) I was resolved to kick myself up the arse and "get a grip"
so I have organised now to see Nuala in London at the end of the month, and a couple of weeks later I have planned to see old friends John ( the famous Bel-ami), Jane and Mike over in Sheffield. In between these trips I will hopefully see may friend Nige over in Manchester so my "friend" quota will be well and truly TICKED
I know what my problem has been.... I have missed my friends here in Wales. Geoff ( my village matey) left for pastures new a couple of months ago and Hazel is heavily pregnant so has quite rightly been nesting over the last month so I have felt a tad isolated...........and probably quite sorry for myself
My Achilles heel (are) my friends........I am a person that needs them as much as a goldfish needs water...and I don't do well when at least one of them is not around......mind you right now I am happy that fairly soon....I will be catching up with them........over a nice glass of wine and a nice meal......

In the mean time my black mood has been lifted by Meg, who typical of a needy bitch,has perhaps sensed my mood and has followed my every move........

Errrrrrrr?

I have nothing really to say today.
Perhaps it's a case of "bloggers' block"
I think I am need of some city time,
As I am feeling somewhat flat.
Off to put up my poly tunnel

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