A Breather

I am going to take a few days away from blogging.

I have been making a somewhat eclectic "to do" list in the gloom of the kitchen and writing in my diary (albeit an online one) seems a million miles away

So far today I have written

Flu Jab (tick)

Arrange George's haircut (tick)

Buy methylated spirits (One of the Crackheads has leg mite)

Ring Work about when I am returning, (tick)

Deliver Eggs (tick)

Find a pair of decent funeral trousers (not ticked!)

Organise a brief jaunt to Sheffield before Christmas ( almost ticked)

Ring abattoir re pigs (not ticked)

Kill rat which is lurking under back shed (organised though not ticked)

Write Christmas cards and send overseas gifts (whatever!)

Write my Brother's funeral eulogy (NOT ticked)

Yes....I will hopefully be back in a few days

hey ho x

I'm a Lady

We were sorry, we missed "The ladies Charity Night" ( the biggest thing to hit the village since the onset of talking pictures) which took place on Saturday, but by all accounts the night was a resounding success for Claire and Jason Randa, who organised the evening. I have been told that a few of the village ladies were reported to have suffered from  very sore heads on Sunday morning and that ribald shrieks and laughter was heard as far away as Marian Garage at the height of the evening's festivities!
It doesn't surprise me....
whoever said that the Welsh idea of fun was to wear a striped shroud, didn't know the women of Trelawnyd

When I was told of the event, I did complain to Jason that a "ladies only" night was a little discriminatory in this age of the god awful Loose Women   and another such "bash the male" type programmes...and he kindly relented to let us support the do on the night.....I am only sorry that I was a little under par on Saturday, and could only muster a vague interest in  Harry Judd's pneumatic buttocks in Strictly Come Dancing from my position in the arm chair- the thought of socialising with the village hierarchy was all a little too much for me

Fair do's to Jason and Claire though, a phenomenally brilliant 3000£ was raised by their event....money that will, I am sure, be used productively at the local Cancer Centre in Glan Clwyd Hospital.

Well done them!

Sunday

Back to some normality today, and what a bleak, damp and cold day it is.

In drips and drabs condolence cards have arrived at the cottage, from village friends, the Rector and the Parish Council, and the flower show committee... and Pat (my unofficial animal helper) dropped off some flowers as did Sylvia from Byron Street.

People have been very kind

I would have liked curling up in front of the fire with a good load of dvds today, but alas....the usual and the comforting circle of jobs  all still have to be done and so.......

The goose house needed a clean , so the usual onslaught of gander bites had to be endured

Mabel had to be taken out with the others for her daily dose of dog walking practice

I look like shit

Boris looking more chipper than I did at 8am this morning still needed carrying out to the field... note: his eye has miraculously improved

The Crackhead Whores still looking rough as a bear's arse..all needed their "build up" treats

Beatrice, the hen with the stroke , still needed some of her own physiotherapy as her coop is opened up

hey ho

This lovely piece of music by Ludovico Einaudi, is the order of the day

Somewhere Over The Rainbow - Judy Garland (London Palladium)

we saw this performance on a tv programme tonight and were touched by the fragility of it so I watched it again on youtube after chris went to bed and cried like a baby!

Gaining Comfort

The Gray Family circa 1963- Andrew is on the far left

My brother and I could not have been more different. 

I wear my heart on my sleeve, have a rather indulgent way of what Chris calls "emotionally romping" my way through life's ups and downs and despite assurances to the contrary love a "bit of a fuss".

My brother, on the other hand was a private man, who kept his inner most feelings to himself. Unlike me he was not frivolous but, could , when he was well, share a frivolous story with the humour, timing and sharpness of Joan Rivers at her very best.

His preparation for death was a private matter. He shared a few requests with his much respected consultant  who ensured ,with the unwavering tenacity and strength of his wife , Jayne, that they were carried out to the letter...and when the time came, Andrew died at home, without pain or distress and with his wife and son at his bedside.

I found a great deal of comfort in this fact.

I also found a great deal of comfort at being able to complete a few small personal duties before the Undertaker arrived. I gave Andrew a wash, and a shave and I brushed his hair, so he was all "neat and tidy"

It was something simple that his beloved gran would have done.....and it was of her that I was thinking of as I pottered away.

After I had finished , it was Jayne, his wife that realised what I had subconsciously done, as she laughed how much his hair resembled the "slicked over" style Andrew always had as a boy.

It pleased me that she found it in some way comforting

Andrew

My Brother Andrew died a few hours ago

He was only 58

I have nothing more to say

http://supportingandrew.blogspot.com/

Pig Points

Piggy Eyes watching the world

No 12 is a benign boar.
He is gentle, good humoured and rather a handsome soul...who does nothing but sleep and eat in these glum first days of winter.
He and 21 will be going soon......the finer points of when, where and freezer space just need some clarification and organisation, but go they will after a spring, summer and autumn, digging,eating and sunbathing in the corner of the field.
Will I miss the pigs when they leave? Hummm..... I am not sure............................... I have been pretty good at distancing myself from them as "individuals" and generally have not fallen victim to those quirky aspects of personality all animals possess...those that get under your emotional skin so to speak.


The pigs are fed, watered, and health checked, and that't it! They have not been played with, they have not been anthropomorphised within an inch of their piggy tales and they have not been loved. Having said this, I shall miss no 12's dog like nature just a little...but I won't be upset when they are taken to the knacker's yard......This bothers me just a little....for I will be guilty, like most of us are , of accepting the meat so to speak without really accepting any of the responsibility of "doing the deed" 
The pigs will leave my care, healthy and robust animals...... I won't be privy to their final moments....(thank God)... but I will enjoy their meat just the same........without ever having to get my hands dirty.
hummm on reflection this doesn't quite sit right with me
hey ho

I am ashamed to be human