"I'm 83 you know!"

I have just spent a somewhat frustrating early afternoon trying to sort out an elderly neighbour's cardiac monitor. It is one of those monitors that picks up cardiac arrhythmias and contacts the hospital when the normal "bleep bleep" bounces into something more sinister. Various parts of the monitor had not been delivered, so armed with nothing more than the general hospital number, I had to try and find "who could sort it all out" on a Friday afternoon.....Friday afternoons are when hospital staff suddenly disappear into the woodwork.

I thought I had more or less sorted things when the old chap then asked me to set up a  new printer and scanner he had just had delivered, so there was more of the same as wires had to be connected and cds needed to be watched and their instructions followed.

I wonder who Chris and I will rely on when (and if) we ever reach our dotage .We have no children that could cushion the ravages of old age. We haven't even got any adopted Filapinos (aka Madonna) or surrogate babies like Wacko Jacko.... we will just have each other to depend upon when we get to that creaking old age when it takes half an hour for us to climb the stairs to bed, and when we finally get there, we've bloody well forgotten why we went up there in the first place!

Perhaps it will be Shady Pines for us eventually!  

I do hope not.

The prospect of some disinterested teenage support worker wiping my bum  with all the delicacy of an all-in wrestler after I alight from my commode, does not fill me with any warm feelings whatsoever.......

Gawd Help us

The Sheep Whisperer

The girls walking past me ever-so-slowly.. without ANY eye contact whatsoever

Forgive the second post of the day, 

Now....I am not overly familiar with sheep.

(YP hold it right there and say NOTHING!)

OK here in rural Wales you literally cannot fart without being over heard by a startled ewe  and then see a marbled eyed dumb face staring at you with a look of "how very dare you!"

Sylvia and Irene are curious and nervous little creatures

After a somewhat fraught first meeting with the Indian runners who set both ewes galloping for the hills with an unbelievably loud screaming pincer movement , things are beginning to settle down between birds and sheep!

Of course , I am the only real fly in the ointment where their emotional well being is concerned, for to begin with all it needed for them to be sent scurrying into the bushes was a merest glimpse of my sweaty little hand on the gate handle!

So at every opportunity I have gone out to the field with a bowl of feed which I have shaken enticingly at them with my best "come hither" expression on my face.and over the last few days they are noticeably building themselves up to actually come up to within a gnat's crotchet of my excitedly shaking bucket!

Wendy from Gwaenysgor

Phone rings

"Hello?" I say

Woman's voice very breathless on the other end

"It's Wendy from Gwaenysgor........ I've just found a chick running around outside and I don't know what to do with it!"

"have you a hen sat on some eggs?"

"Oh god.......er...... let me think?....oh God! ... YES! Its a buff, she's been sitting in her nest for years!"

"Shut her away and place the chick underneath her"

"oh Lord this is exciting! I've never had a chick before! It's chirping very loudly!"

"They do, it's fine...there's probably more chicks on the way, best leave them all well alone for another day"

"Oh God! what else do I have to do?"

I covered chick care briefly

"Right", Wendy said, " I will go and put the baby back!"

Hangs up!

Two minutes later phone rings again

"Oh God! it's Wendy! I have put the baby back and I have just found a sad looking Sussex sitting outside the hen house  and she looks like she has lost something?"

"Has the sussex been sitting on eggs?" I asked

"no!..... yes!,,,,no! er .......sometimes? ...... I am not sure"

"She needs to be sitting for three weeks solid to hatch out a chick!" I reminded her

"Well no then!" she sounded confused...."is it always so stressful when you have your first chicks?"

"Yes, calm down, "put the baby back and see if the buff accepts him"

"ok!"

A few minutes later the phone goes

" Its Wendy!"

(I guessed it might have been)

"Everything looks ok, I have send my husband out for chick crumbs and I have put water in the coop is there anything else I have forgotten?.... I am so sorry to bother you!"

I went through some pointers again.

"It's no wonder I drink a lot of wine!" she gasped finally

I need a drink!"

"Go and have one" I said with a smile....

Sarah Jane

This is Sarah Jane

She is the mumsy vicar's wife contestant in BBC's

The Great British Bake Off

and she is a real scream!

With a slight "little girl" personality and a self effacing sense of humour

she had cried, laughed and blustered her way through the tv baking competition with a great deal of English 

"spirit the won the war" bon viveur!

Her tearful monologue about how crap a cook she is whilst sheltering under a huge see through umbrella

is worthy of something Alan Bennett could write

Don't worry SJ..we have all cred over a bad tart at one time or other

Look out for fellow contestants Catheryn (another natural comic),

The Camp and slightly know all Brendan,

and the lovely ITU consultant Danny from Sheffield

all of them delightful characters

Its a cracking watch

(APOLOGIES to those who have not got a flying f*ck of an idea just what I am banging on about)

Shady Pines

Well after the previous sweat inducing post , I thought I would try and get back on an even keel

The field population of hens has reached somewhat of a tipping point.

Yesterday I collected just one bloody egg!

I have 38 hens ( I audited them all this morning how's that for being anal?)

This year 12 of the very old hens have died.1 young bright thing was taken by the fox in the middle of a funeral and 2 other youngsters drowned themselves by accident in one of the water butts and after checking over the remaining girls, I now realise that I have effectively have only  8 young  egg laying birds in their prime.

The rest ( the crackhead whores, my original black hookers from when I started off keeping chickens and all of the fat old buffs) are getting on a little now, and all are entering that twilight time of their poultry years.

I will have to face the fact that I am now the matron of a hen home for the aged, infirm and physically knackered .

I am renaming the field "shady Pines"

Time to get some fit new girls me thinks

ps/ now what 1980s comedy show characters referred to "shady Pines" when they threatened  to send one of the "older" members of their group to a retirement home?

I wonder..........

......Just why I have posted this video?

Autumn in Wales

Sitges Promenade

I am missing Sitges.

I especially miss the early evening promenade walk, when what seems like the whole population (with their dogs in tow) come out to amble under the palm trees, and chat and greet in the warm autumn sunshine.

The Spanish have the right idea. Their "outsides" become mere extensions of their living rooms, The promenade is simply another "room" to be shared and enjoyed without worry or selfishness.

Of course the Spanish have better weather

Autumn in this country means wetness and cold

Autumn in this country means hiding away in your own living rooms

and autumn means dark evenings, The return of the Downton Abbey pantomime and the prospect of 14 celebrities learning to ballroom dance on Strictly Come Dancing.

Man in a blue dress

Last night Jerry Hall thoroughly enjoyed herself as she vamped it up in true drag queen/Tallulah Bankhead style as Strictly dragged it's sorry arse back to the small screen and tonight sees the lovely Matthew Crawley boring the tits off Lady Mary in Downton.

Delightfully Boring ( bet they shag like little rabbits though)

The Brits are now all set for Autumn

We disappear into our living rooms during those dark evenings

and watch the television.

Perhaps we will experience an Indian summer?

Perhaps with global warming the beach Promenade down in Prestatyn will suddenly sprout palm trees and will allow for the spotty drug addled youth of the town to throw away their hoodies to play half naked volleyball in the sewage free sand........

A typical couple of Welsh farmers unwinding on Prestatyn Beach

Of course September and October will be freezing, wet and miserable...and of course I am such a hypocrite when I say that the goggle box will not have some "pull"  for me as Winter approaches

In 4 weeks time The Walking Dead series 3 returns...

there is nothing like a zombie massacre to lighten those dark days before Christmas me thinks

hey ho

ps two new characters may be joining the field population very soon! I am off to see "them" on Tuesday!!!!

(watch this space) you may be surprised

Throwing Like A Girl

The back of the Cottage and the field beyond

To understand the content of this post, you, dear reader , will need to understand the layout of our piece of Trelawnyd. As most ancient cottages, Bwthyn-y-llan lies directly on the lane which snakes out past the Church and down to the site of the Felin ( Welsh for Mill) and  towards the villages of Cwm and Dyserth.

Our back door opens to the lane where only a low wall separates us from the lane then the Graveyard wall beyond.

The ground in the graveyard is six feet higher than our back garden, so when the likes of the Guinea fowl wander around , hopeful of a little titbit from the kitchen, they can peer directly down onto the back of the house and right into the windows.

This afternoon it has been a day for catching up. I have picked onions, broad beans and potatoes, cut the lawn and walked the dogs ( a short walk as Meg and William are both slightly lame following their disastrous kennel stay).

I have also done a little baking and knocked up some jam tarts with some abandoned jam from The Flower Show. As usual I had some pastry left over and after hearing the guineas calling from the Churchyard I took the damp pastry outside to throw at them.

( now this does not sound too odd, as I must let you know that most poultry go absolutely gaga over uncooked pastry dough. They love it as fat people love cream cakes.....)

Anyhow I took a handful of dough, called the guineas over and lobbed the pastry at them without really thinking about what I was doing.

I threw the pastry like a real girl.

And with a plop the wet pastry slammed against the back window of a passing 4 x 4!

I very nearly legged it into the cottage I was that embarrassed but luckily I recognised the driver when she stopped to see what had happened. She passes down the lane most days.

"Sor--ry I called out....I was throwing pastry at the guinea fowl"

"Course you were!" she called out cheerfully as though it was the most normal thing in the world to happen to her on a Sunny Saturday afternoon