The Resurrection Of Jesus and more lame ducks

With Chris away in Broadstairs, I could indulge myself with a little bit of bad behaviour.

Jesus

Last night around nine I started a loud play fight with all of the dogs in the living room, and after a few minutes there were terriers all bouncing off the ceiling closely followed by a near hysterical Bulldog who decided to rip the stuffing out of a couple of old cushions in a fit of uncharacteristic playfulness..

So preoccupied as I was with the rough and tumble I didn't see a young woman standing in the window, nor did I have any idea of just how long she had been watching me make a tit out of myself on the floor; so gathering up the last vestige of dignity I possessed, I walked around to the back of the cottage to see what she wanted.

I vaguely recognised her, she lived in the next village and in the winter had adopted Jesus, the white cockerel from me, so It wasn't hard to work out that she wanted to return him.

She had the whole spiel ready.

He was lovely, she loved him dearly but she was going to live in Bristol and couldn't take him with her....blah blah blah......

I asked her when she was going to Bristol

"Tomorrow" she said without embarrassment

To say that I was pissed off was an understatement, what was I going to say ? Leave him alone in her garden and wait for the foxes to take him. She knew damn well  that she could dump him back with me

and against my better judgement, I agreed for his return.
* for those that don't know..Jesus was thus named as he was dumped by the field gate by someone unknown on Boxing day 2009!

So Jesus will be back! and he wont be the only one.

Last week I received an email from a couple wanting to re-home an orphan duckling that had presented himself to their retired father over in Shropshire... apparently the duckling is tame and rapidly outgrowing his rather nice conservatory.

After some correspondence I agreed for them to drop him off to me when they were off to Anglesey on Friday

And yesterday they thoughtfully sent a photo of CJ with his surrogate father for me to have a look at.

Yeap...he's obviously NOT a duck. but a robust looking gosling...

here's hoping he is not a gander!

Ebb and Flow

Five years ago I bought my first group of hybrid hens.
Out of the twelve that came to the field only six old hens now remain and these live out their lives in relative peace with Stanley the aging cockerel and Angostura the bad tempered guinea fowl.

The old hens keep out of the limelight. They potter away from the vital  and more "aggressive" hens and seem to enjoy their quiet retirement at the bottom of the field in the twilight sheltered accommodation zone between duck house and pig pen.

They all reminded me of how we as a society often view our older population.......they are in essence invisible.
They demand little, they "keep themselves to themselves" and in many ways they are basically thought of as being "unproductive"
Yet the old hens on the field are old for a reason.
They remain the most robust and brightest hens under my care. They are first to shelter in bad weather,, they understand just where the danger points are within the field borders and when danger rears its ugly head, they understand the only too well where to go to keep safe.

For the most part, it has been the kindness and experience of the older people of Trelawnyd that has affected me here in Trelawnyd.....this morning Pat, who wont be upset when I say , is well over retirement age, called down yet again to wrestle the much improved piglet into submission in order that I could inject her with another 1 ml of antibiotic...she will help me again tomorrow and again on Friday and will do so with good humour and care.
The red faced Welsh farmer, who again is in his seventh decade hurled great bags of  wood shavings over the gate a couple of days ago for bedding for the pigs and birds, and he did so without wanting anything in return.....as does Auntie Gladys who walked the length of the village just to leave us a carrier bag full of scones.

Ok I wont get too saccharine here.
We all know that some OAPs are the most selfish and insanely miserable old gits ever seen on the planet....but like my old hens, most that I come into contact here...are adroit old characters and dear friends

Right off now for a study day at work...... a day of health and safety......resuscitation and fire safety.......
(PHOTO  Whoopie Goldberg)
oh joy!

Texan politeness and 21's injection

Now I am not really a fan of "tv research"
Generally there are more holes in it than a slice of Swiss Cheese,and for the most part it is designed to be somewhat overly dramatic rather than intellectually rigorous .
Always a case of styleover substance
The general premise of this video centres around an actress/waitress being "homophobic" to a gay parenting family at a Texan cafe and the subsequent intervention by the general public when they challenge the waitress' rudeness.
As you may have expected, ( well I did), the rural community seems to be able to challenge the waitress' behaviour much more vociferously than the reported " city" diners did and although the video does flag wave the anti homophobic reaction amongst the Texan population, my thoughts on the matter centre around the fact that Southern people just do not tolerate rudeness in whatever form it is given.
Anyhow stick with the video!, and whatever you think of the diner's motivations, it does indeed capture that nice part of human nature
(look out for the letter that one young man presented to the lesbian couple....it's very moving)

21 had her second antibiotic injection this morning, which was an interesting experience to say the least. Jabbing a squirming piglet up the arse is a two man job and with Chris being away for the week, I was left lacking manpower, so eventually I had to conscript the help of  neighbour Pat, who fortunately,  is an old hand at piglet wrestling,
The second injection was therefore given right on time, and the little sow is looking just that little bit better this morning and has been able to put her sore leg down onto the ground for the first time

Thank goodness for good neighbours
and thank goodness for kind Texans

George Clooney The Vet

Poorly 21

No 21 went lame over the weekend.
I suspected that she had an infection in her knee joint, but left her to rest to see if it would improve.
It didn't, so this morning I took her to a new rural vet practice up in the hills.
I have no confidence in my local vets. I have not since Maddie died last year,so after a bit of trolling around I registered my "farm" animals with the new practice which is around 20 minutes away and without a problem obtained an appointment with them after morning surgery.

I left a sorry looking 21 in the car while I waited for the vet to be free.....and after only a couple of minutes reading an old copy of Hello, the vet appeared in the doorway.
He looked the spit of a young George Clooney and as he flashed me the biggest pair of baby blue eyes he asked in a booming deep voice
"Are you the guy with the lame pig?"
I gulped
"Yes!"I squeaked....and said weakly "She's in the Berlingo"
"Well let's go and sort her out" he said cheerfully, flexing his smile again to deadly effect
...............I tottered out after him like a 14 year old schoolgirl.

Dr Doug Ross in ER couldn't have been more attentive
He took 21's temperature, manipulated her leg gently and checked her over as if she was a baby
"That's a nice pig" he said after the examination
"Thank you!" I simpered, smiling like an idiot
"She has an infection in the joint" he explained, ".I am going to give her an anti inflammatory injection and some antibiotics...have you ever injected a pig before?" The God asked
"No " I babbled " but I have given injections to plenty of fat humans before"
I was trying to be clever
He didn't laugh...but said " that's good".

You're never too old to make a tit out of yourself over a pretty face
Even if the vet had looked like the back of a bus, I was happy with the service I received and the total cost of the morning was refreshingly cheap.

Now answer me a question!

Can anyone clear up a question I have been thinking about for quite some time
Why do people read blogs less on a Saturday?
Strangely enough around 180-200 people ( god forbid) click on Going Gently per day to read about life here in the crawling lane of back country Trelawnyd.( I have to admit some 20 of these can be directed to the site if they  Google the subject of "Welsh celebrities")......however on a Saturday I am always lucky to get perhaps 130 "viewers"
Now this computer behaviour intrigues me just a little........so... can anyone explain why it occurs?
Are Saturdays set aside for other pursuits rather than the reading of the acerbic tales of Tom Stephenson, the joyful musings of Victoria and Jacqueline or Cro Magnon's French country stories?........
Could it be Chores? family? shopping? sex? gardening?  or real life that gets in the way? ...who knows?
But I would be interested to hear if anyone has an answer to this strange little phenomenon.

Anyhow back to the real world.
Nuala caught the afternoon train back to London leaving the cottage just a little quieter and less sparkling by her absence.
It feels as though we have talked constantly for 24 hours.
It was lovely to see her.

Ipad playing



Nu and a broody cochin



Nuala

After surviving the wild west coast train ,some very non London Chicken chasing and IPAD fooling around this afternoon

we are off to Osborns for dinner.

The photo sums up the very nature of old friends..........

Operation Dog Snot Removal....II

No Thomas, it's not some Welsh modern art........
It's the scum left in the bath after only ONE of the dogs has had their pre visitor bath.
I have too much to do today. Nuala arrives tomorrow for a whistle stop visit and I am working night shift tonight, so as well as the animals to care for I have to work like a Trojan in order to remove the doggy smells and snot stains from 95% of the cottage.
Not the nicest of jobs...but certainly a necessary one!

I have been asked a few times about the condition of the chick that Plank adopted
The chick that survived the fox attack seems to have the lives of a cat.

Plank, the thick buff orpington, looked after the orphan for nearly four days before turning on her charge with a ferocity rare for such a placid hen.
I only realised that something was wrong was when Constance and William parked themselves outside the shed by the back door and refused to move. On closer inspection I found Plank stalking angrily around the shed while the frightened chick hid inside a wellington boot lying on its side.

I had no explanation of just why she had turned so forcefully on the chick, but turn she did, and I am sure that she would have killed it if the chick hadn't found an unexpected place of safety.
And so the chick is back on its own again
She looks alright and now has a small hand mirror for company.....well I figured that if a small mirror is good enough for a budgie it will be good enough for a lonely hen
She's eating well

Right off again to shampoo the dog smell from the carpets.......

Pants!

The good thing about being on a long and sustained heath kick is that you no longer have to squeeze your fat arse into your pants!
Cutting down on food (apart from a birthday  KFC last night----I know I know..but to me it's a big fuck off treat!),all fat and especially alcohol (hardly any in a few weeks ...would you believe it?) has started to show dividends and although by blood pressure remains a little elevated ( thanks Dad) I managed to get into a pair of combat trousers yesterday without resorting to a warm spoon and a ton of goose grease!

Ok I still have a long way to go, but at least the 12 year old practice nurse down at the doctor's surgery cannot give me that awfully patronising "lifestyle change" pep talk that they are so good at giving, after I pre-empt her spiel with news of my weight loss, liver preservation and shiny new combats.....
I hope SHE doesn't think that I now still look 49!
( If she calls me Grandad I will slap her)


Anyhow I am up at my Brother's for the day . My sister-in-law needed to be out early, and while my brother has had a lie in, I have busied myself with completing another two chapters over at http://trelawnydhistory.blogspot.com/ and sorting some health and safety signs out for my Open Allotment day which has been booked for the 17th of July.
Yes even the dreaded "risk assessment" has to be filled out for the smallest of village open days!


Oh I need to ring Boots -The Chemist too! they have lost the original slides I took in to be printed up and still they have not turned up yet..........I know it will increase my blood pressure somewhat, but I feel like a little sport........a few waspish comments to some middle managers......will give me a smile on this dull looking Thursday morning!


(ps will update everyone on the Plank and chick saga later!)