Fairy Tales

I absolutely LOVE cinematic fairy tales

This clip from the early 1990s television series Ally McBeal... was pure slush!

But having said this.....I have to admit that it always made me smile.....especially when Ally walked through the deserted Boston Streets at the end of each episode
(my second fav scene was always the staff of the law firm having early evening drinks at the suddenly busy nightclub every weeknight!

How many out there remember it?

Maura's request

As Requested by Maura
This is the link by Google Street Map........you can see me by the chicken coop
Maddie is sat stiffly by the shed
Small world
Google Street Map Trelawnyd Church Field & me

Where are you?

Gop Hill (centre) taken from Liverpool Bay.
Trelawnyd lies in the shadow of the Gop which is around 800 feet above sea level

Another day, another e mail question from Mrs Fickle from the American Mid West.
She asks
.............."Now I know you live in the middle of the Welsh Countryside but when I have re read some of your older posts  you very occasionally make references to visiting the beach.....are you close to the Ocean?
can you clarify things for me"
Warm Regards,
Beatrice M. Fickle (Ret)."


Beatrice It does sound confusing I agree as when I post photos of the village, the whole place seems completely landlocked. Trelawnyd is only perhaps a mile and a half South of the sea.  In the satellite photograph below which shows Liverpool bay Trelawnyd is just inland of the centre peninsular
The coastal town of Prestatyn lies between Trelawnyd. There are some lovely beaches there but I tend not to go in the summer months as the beach car park is extortionate and the nearby Pontins holiday camp is filled with a great number of poor people!

Liverpool Bay , which is the body of water which enters into the Irish Sea

ps/ I have just recieved this email from the lovely Maura @ Lilac Lane Cottage

Hi John.....I just read your post with the satellite photo of your area so with coffee in hand I decided to look it up on Google maps. As I was looking I noticed the name of your little village so zoomed in and had a little 'walk' around the streets...isn't Google grand! Anyway...I noticed a church so I continued on ground level past the church lych gate?...and around the corner down the narrow winding road (I see chickens in the churchyard) and lo and behold what do I see on the left.....critter houses...buckets with water...veggie gardens with wire fences protecting them...at least one white chicken...a yellow chicken...what looks like a turkey and what looks like a little black Scottie dog sitting by a little green building and a man with a rake or hoe in one of the little gardens and what looks like a couple of wheel barrows laying on their sides. The road is called Cwm Rd. Well I nearly spilled my coffee I couldn't believe it....this looked like YOUR 'allotment'?! I decided to see if I could find a few pictures on your blog to see if I could recognize some of the buildings and what do you know....in the picture of Winnie and Jo and the magpie ducks I see a cottage...partly stone and partly white stucco in the background and then in one of your newer posts there's the picture of Camilla with badger and I see the metal gate behind them that I saw as I followed the road on Google. In the picture of the Allotment 2009 in your side bar realized this was taken from the upstairs window looking across the road into the allotment with the tent pitched right where the metal gate was. Don't be afraid John ....I'm not a stalker I promise hehehe but I can't tell you how excited I was to come across this on Google. I felt like I was right there walking that narrow winding road and then it all seemed so familiar...the pens and the fences and gardens and critters. Well now I know I'm right.....I just looked back at some of your earlier posts and I came across one that I missed called "Everyone has a film in them" and at the bottom I see the picture of the village and there written on the picture is ''my field'! I guess if I had been reading your blog more regularly lately I would have known for sure this was your field...duh!
Anyway John...I enjoyed my cup of coffee wandering down your little road and admiring your field and cottage. I had it pictured all wrong in my head....I picture the field running behind your cottage and the church running along side you on the other side of a stone fence. Now I know exactly how things line up. How lucky you and Chris are!!!

Anyway...I hope you, Chris and the critters have a wonderful day!

Maura

Growing up clumsy

As a child I was always falling over. Consistently I would be the kid that banged his head on the corner of a fence, drop something breakable and splatter my jumper with the remnants of my breakfast, lunch and dinner!

It was a "given" that at least once a day, something destructive would happen.

Typical of the time, I was diagnosed by my mother as being a clumsy boy. I was a " klutz ", "awkward" and "stupid", and every time I would clatter untidily down a staircase or walk into a door, she would always sigh in that overly dramatic way of hers, as if to say, "There he goes again"
Today, I am sure, I would be diagnosed as being slightly dyspraxic
for my childhood clumsiness has indeed never left me.Only yesterday when I was clearing out ash from the log burner, I couldn't quite fill the rubbish bag without staining the carpet with ash and the day before the flower show I burnt the back of my hand when bumping into hot crockery!



That burn that caused me to curse myself,just like the way my mother used to do!
"Stupid boy!" ( or words to that effect)............strange that!
Last night I went to see the Spanish thriller Julia's Eyes at Theatre Clwyd. (don't bother going to see it...it's dreadful!)
It's summer season time, so the Theater itself is all but deserted as only the tiny cinema is open.

I bought myself a coffee, so arrived slightly late, but as I always sit in the same seat ( how f*cking sad is that?) I tip toed past the small audience and promptly went flying over my feet down the aisle slashing hot coffee all over the wall whilst shouting out "oh bloody hell!!"

A couple of people sniggered when I wiped up the mess with the sleeve of my coat, and red faced and still clutching a quarter inch of coffee in the paper cup I tried to look invisible for the rest of the film.....
Postscript:This morning I have just delivered eggs to a woman in the village with strawberry jam from by breakfast all down the front of my jumper!

I am a classy date

Church Therapy

Chris gets up very early, he always has done.
At 5.30am he was having a Brian Blessed-esque rant about a "puddle" in the living room, so much so, that I found myself wide awake and surrounded by guilty looking dogs pretending to be asleep.


I gave up on getting back to sleep, so I sorted out the animals, took Chris to the station to catch his train, then collected a jar of polish and dusters and walked up to St Michael and All Angels  for my first stint as Church cleaner
Now I don't know the "politics" within the Church, but I do know that I needed to be seen to have done a good job; so with some gusto I polished pews, hoovered floors and brushed clean the wide dark window ledges and enjoyed doing it, in the peaceful quiet of the empty church.


Years ago , when I was working full time, we had a Filipino Cleaning lady in our Sheffield home. She was a tiny powerhouse of a cleaner, who worked like a Trojan for the 4 hours a week she was employed for.
Having her in the house felt a little like a doubled edged sword for even though the house was spotless after she left...I would always feel slightly embarrassed when Eba (for that was her name) used to constantly mutter "Dirty Boys...dirty..dirty boys!" when at full tilt in the kitchen or bathroom!


Anyhow I digress.

An old Postcard of the interior  of St Michaels

Polishing and cleaning in the silence of the Church was more therapeutic than any expensive massage could have been and as I worked I took the chance to really look at the fixtures and fittings around the tiny 55 foot interior.
The impressive East Window (top picture) was donated in the late 19th Century by the daughter of Edward and Anne Roberts from the Black Boy Pub from High Street. It depicts the Crucifixion.
On the North wall is the 91 year old Church Organ

The  school teacher Miss BA Jones was famous for holding on the organ key from the 1940s. She could be a bit of a formidable character  and did not even let the Rector's wife (Mrs Jenkins) an accomplished musician, have the key in order to practice !

Over the vestry door is a stunning painting entitled "I am"
It was painted by a local artist Leonard Hughes who donated it to the Church in 1919.
Apparently locals from the village including the Rector modelled for some of the figures seen in the painting


After 90 minutes, I had finished....and with a final few squirts of fabreeze, I left the peace and quiet of St Michaels for the normal banter of the field and village

Don't thank me......thank the Lord!

Badger and Camilla (still together)- I was going to take Delores' advice and photograph them

I didn't have bloggers block!!!..I should have known it. I've just had a case of the anticlimactic blues coupled with a late night watching Susan Sarandon battling breast cancer in the Antarctic (in the tv movie Ice Bound)...

I took several of you kind bloggers advice and planned a gentle head clearing , so, and with Classic FM on the headphones and with gardening clippers in hand, I told myself to stop feeling sorry for myself and "get over it" with a long bout of weed clearing.

As it happened, it was the good folk of Trelawnyd that bucked me up. The Red Faced Welsh Farmer , chuckling with delight at some piece of farming gossip he had heard, stopped his land rover by the gate and bundled a large present of wild mushrooms into my lap without wanting anything in return

The lady from the still house, who had lost her dog recently called around with a kind gift of all of her old pet's food and treats..and as I trundled the dogs out for their walk, Jason, the part time baker, slowed his car, opened his window and called out playfully
"Get blogging soon! if you don't I will have to buy a bloody paper!"
But not surprisingly it was 92 year old Gladys that made me smile the most today
Beaming with pleasure she made a point of letting me know just how much she had enjoyed the Flower show on Saturday . Even though she had helped run the past 38 shows, she chirped that this one had been the best ever!, which was so kind of her.

As I left her house she pressed a dozen neatly wrapped scones into my hand with a smile
"Thank you" I said
"You're welcome" she said laughing gently and as she touched my face with her hand she called out sweetly
"Don't thank me..... Thank The Lord!"

Bloggers' Block?
pah!

Bloggers Block

 Do people actually suffer from "Bloggers' block?"
I have wondered about this before, as several of the bloggers that I have followed over the years have actually documented that they have run out of... 
words to type;
steam to share or...
just an inclination not to blog.


Today I feel a little like this.
I know where it comes from.though, or at least I think I know....
June, July and August has been busy, adrenaline filled months where the Open day and Flower Show has filled much of my spare time.
Both have proved to be successful

Both have galvanized a community spirit and a kind of "il fait bon vivre" feeling..
Now I have come down....with a tiny bit of a bump
Yes it's all ME ME ME isn't it?!


Might have a break for a day or so..in the mean time, I will have to pull myself up by the bra straps 
I have animals to worm , the goose house to clean out and the front garden to clear up
x

Constance Sunday Morning

I videoed her this morning as she was dreaming on the kitchen couch
Pity there is no sound........she sounded like Brian Blessed in a wind tunnel