Going Gently

If I Wasn't A Nurse?

......what would I have liked to have been?

Hummm do you know what?

I would have loved to have been a ...........

(wait for it)

......a professional Butler!

Who would have thought it?

What would you lot have been

Given the chance

?
ps
In retrospect I would have liked to be (apart from a butler)
a zoo keeper
a vet
or perhaps even
Russell Crowe's P A

A Heart Warming Story

It's another grey morning here in Trelawnyd.

I am busy making "lists" at the dining room table.

George has just been sick on the kitchen floor and as I am steeling myself to collect the debris

Mind you...I have just noticed that the other dogs have just eaten it.

How delightful

enjoy the video

You Couldn't Make It Up!

It was the harvest festival service at the Church this morning.

Chris left the house at 10am to go. I woke after just one hour's sleep at 10.15 when, John the next door neighbour started chipping away at some masonry on his cottage wall.

With a sigh I took the dogs out and as I returned I bumped into Auntie Gladys leaving the Church with Stan (Husband of Kit who is famous for making knitted slippers!)

Gladys has recently had eye surgery which must have worked wonders as she has recently increased her scone output to record levels..

I have been requested to drop by later, to collect a scone package!

Anyhow,

Apparently the Church was full as parishioners from the two villages of Dyserth and Cwm attended the service, so I was glad I had given the carpets a good hoovering on Thursday morning.

There is nothing worse than letting the side down in front of other congregations.

I must say that the Church did look impressive for the harvest service, with food adorning every window and every available nook and cranny....

I asked Chris what he thought about it all.... and he agreed that everything looked rather splendid and beautifully laid out

"There was ONE thing I wasn't sure about!" he finally added

"I wasn't sure about the pot noodle on the font!"

A Cracking Line if ever I heard one

The Ghost Sheep

My efforts to tame the sheep are going a little slow.

Sylvia, like her namesake, is somewhat of a robust, character who leads the shy Irene a sort of merry dance all over the field. Sheep trails have already been formed clearly in the grass and are providing a highway for the hens and ducks too and from the coops and the pond.

I need better weather really, and aim to sit with a book when the rain finally clears away, so that the ever curious ewes can have an opportunity to give me the once over.

Physically smaller than your average "Wallace and Grommit" sheep, the Soay breed are shy and silent characters. They slip from one favourite part of the field to another like grey ghosts and will suddenly apprear out of nowhere when they went to see just why I have my head in a coop or a bucket in my hand.

With their wide panda eyes and their gentle ways, they are characters that are certainly growing on me

Who Taught Me to be Inclusive

when I was around seven we living in a cul-de-sac in Prestatyn

I have only one memory of living in the bungalow on the right hand side of that street and that was a Sunday based "show" performed by the kids for their parents in the street

I remember very little except the dance performance by one of the girls on the close and that was a downs syndrome girl in her teens who danced and ran about in a circle

She skipped her way through some sort of 70s song and did so with such good humour I remember the entire close giving her a standing ovation....

It taught me a lot about fair play,

and it taught me to celebrate a lumpy fat girl with learning difficulties who had more chutspah than the average rabbi

funny what you remember eh?

Home To Roost

The mellow nostalgic melancholy of yesterday is still lurking there.

The weather has a lot to do with it,

It remains wet and dull and grey this morning.

I thought that this photo would lighten the gloom

I have just remembered that Albert was up on the kitchen table earlier, licking the butter off the butter knife when I was leaving the house at dawn to take Chris down for the train.

I have just used the knife without thinking to butter my bagel.

It'll do my immunity some good.

Last week a chap from across the valley dropped off five point of lay warrens for me.

Earlier in the year we fell into a conversation about my runners, and as a favour I gave him a load of duck eggs over a month or so period. He offered to pay for them but I refused saying

"You do me a favour sometime"

A week or so ago I saw his wife at the feed shop. We chatted about this and that and I mentioned to her that my egg production was dire.

A few days later he dropped off five new laying warrens for me

"Just returning the favour" he said kindly.

Earlier in the week another chance meeting allowed someone I know having a good moan to me about their lot . It was something and nothing really, a case of the right person at the right time.

But the following day a couple of jars of jam was left on the doorstep.

"a small thank you for listening"

Unnecessary but rather sweet....

and yet again the RFWF has just dropped off another huge bag of wood shavings at the field gate. The hens will sleep snugly tonight.......

When the weather is dire, muddy dog paw prints have covered the only clean bit of floor in the kitchen yet again and the cat has been licking your butter knife with a gob covered with mouse body parts...its nice to think that some good deeds come home to roost

Have a nice Weekend