A Rat Under The Sofa

It is 5.45.am

I have been awake since 4.55am

As you know, I just DON'T DO mornings..

and I am not a happy Bunny.

Chris woke me up with a somewhat worried "Something is squeaking under the sofa"

He was up early as he is due to work in London this week, but even so.......informing me of a half dead mouse at that time was just NOT ON.

Of course I could not sleep.

I could hear William and Albert scuttling around the lounge after the poor animal, so I thought "fuck it" and after getting dressed waded knee deep into the melee

Chris was standing there holding my wind up torch in his dressing gown .

He looked worried. 

"There's a rat under the draft excluder" he said lamely.

Chris doesn't DO rodents!

"Get me the rolling pin" I ordered....taking charge of the situation and I rolled my sleeves up ready for a bit of a tussle.

Chris returned with a large pepper grinder

Typical academic

I huffed, found the rolling pin, and after removing the excluder, gave the small rat a couple of hefty whacks

He was bloody invincible!

Chased by William and a somewhat joyous Albert ( who was thoroughly enjoying himself) the rat made a dash for the bookcase. then dived behind the radiator before squeezing himself under the writing desk....

By this time I had just about had enough.... the room resembled Dresden after the bombing ,and my first cup of coffee of the day seemed a real age away...so  swearing like an old docker, I marched into the kitchen, donned one of Chris' old moterbike gloves, marched back to the lounge ( still swearing) and after pulling away the frantic animals reached down and grabbed the struggling rat by the throat.

He knew the game was up

Shaking with early morning anger... I strode to the back door, took a deep breath and threw the rat across the lane and against the Church wall, killing him instantly...

Message to all rodents... don't mess with Mr Gray before he has had his morning coffee

Keeping In Touch

It's a cold, windy and rather wet night.

I am sat at the kitchen table after the marathon of Christmas Card writing.

A Sherlock Holmes mystery is playing on the radio.

There are four piles of cards in front of me

55 for stamp posting

60 for village delivery

10 or so for family

and an eclectic pile of 15 "miscellaneous" cards "to do"

Usually I absolutely adore the yearly tradition of card writing

This year it's been done... but my heart wasn't quite in it

Decs, Confirmation and the Trelawnyd Oskar Schindler

Our New York snowglobe caught in the Christmas lights

It's been a day for old traditions.

We bought the tree, decorated the living room and ate mince pies (the best sainsburys could muster) in front of the fire.

Chris and Cannon Robert

 Chris went to Church this afternoon and collected his confirmation certificate from the vicar, and dressed in wellies and smelling of dung, I met them both after the service to capture the "official moment"......it always amuses me , that on all formal photographs Chris has a tendency to show off his Roger Moore eyebrow......

Which one would you choose

And on a fairly festive feeling day....I will leave you all with a heart warming tale of Christmas past....

Five years ago, at the beginning of December...I had only one turkey living on the field.

Boris was a mere youngster then...a rather skinny adolescent with a winning nature and an lonely disposition, he spent the short days of winter wandering his enclosure in the vain hope of finding a busty mate.

Unsure of exactly where to get a female turkey from, I put an advertisement up at the post office which read

Wanted

Female TURKEY for sex starved Stag

looks and age immaterial

No time wasters Please

On the 5th of December I received a phone call from a poultry farmer in Hollywell, informing me that he was about to cull his entire flock of English Whites, and if I was quick I could have one female!

I jumped at the chance.

And minutes after the call, I found myself standing in a huge aircraft hanger of a barn, looking at 800, fat, stupid and very loud Christmas turkeys.

"Help yourself" the farmer said and I suddenly found myself with the awesome responsibility of choosing one turkey survivor out of hundreds!

which one should I pick?

Which one looked more nervous?

Which one had the most gentle or needy expression?

I was literally spoilt for choice.....as 1,600 dark soulful eyes watched my every move......

Who would I save?

Which girl would have the opportunity to gallop gaily in a green field with the sun on her beak?

I looked pleadingly at the farmer for inspiration, and without a pause he bent down a picked up a slightly slickly looking female who just had been pecked on the back of her head.....

"Here... have this one" he said..... as he plonked her under my arm

"What should I call her?" I asked, trying to make conversation

He smiled and laughed

"I'd call her fucking lucky....that's what I would call her!"

And that's how Gloria appeared here on the field!........

I told the story to Jason today, when he stopped by when on a dog walk....

"You're a regular turkey Oskar Schindler " he said brightly, when I had finished!

Christmas prep

Today has been a day for normality.
Cleaning the kitchen, getting Christmas cards planned ( I have usually written and sent mine by the start of December!) and organising small, inexpensive gifts.
Traditionally I send small, sweet Christmas decorations to a couple of friends and to my mother in law every December...so these need to go off too, ..........
There is a chill in the air today too, the first time I think it has felt really cold....... Auntie Glad, back from a week's holidays caught me in the centre of the village and held my hand kindly and tightly as she mentioned my brother......
"Get inside Gladys" I told her" you'll catch a chill!"
"Oh I don't mind the cold" she said brightly "it kills the bugs!!!"

End Of An Era

It was odd going to a "family" funeral today with only two sisters sat in the pews.... It seemed lob sided somehow...and just a little bit inappropriate. and the feeling kind of wrong footed me  as we filed in to the crowded Church.

I mentioned it to the congregation before I gave the eulogy....but I didn't have too much time to ad lib as the vicar wrong footed me too , and asked me to do my reading much earlier than the time  shown on the "programme"

It went ok...I didn't stumble over my words too much ( thanks to a million or so rehearsals in the kitchen yesterday) and no one threw prayer books at me for saying anything inappropriate......

Mike Peters did a moving couple of songs .......we all sang a lusty "Bread of Heaven" and suddenly and rather strangely the whole day seemed suddenly over..........

Andrew (third from left) with some celebrity chums

Tonight, next to the fire and covered in dogs...all cosy like, I aim to raise a large glass of something, and give Andrew a good natured "Bottoms up!"........

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