The Truman Show

When Chris went into church yesterday, I spent a therapeutic 45 minutes listening to Desert Island Discs as I cleaned the "patio" behind the cottage.

Affable despot Jason stopped to chat when out for a walk  with his dogs and we embarked on a somewhat light hearted conversation about how "unreal" Trelawnyd can look to someone who casts an "objective" eye on it''s daily toings and froings.

"It's like living in a real life version of the

 The Truman Show" he said wryly.

Now I think I could fill this blog several times over with some of the village stories recalled by Jason ( who could be viewed by the local female population as one of the very few Village pin ups we have in Trelawnyd), but in way of maintaining good neighbour relations I think it is prudent not to broadcast most of them!

Every Little Helps

Anyway I write this background in view of today's blog entry, which in retrospect is as bizarre as anything Jason has observed from Ty Wynne.

It relates to my recent obsession with William's stools.

Last Thursday William somehow got hold of a supermarket carrier bag.

I have no idea what exactly was inside it,but suffice to say that it looked as though he had eaten it's contents as well as part of the plastic itself.

Luckily ever since then, he has been passing remnants of the bag, complete with it's blue and white lettering and logo, and every morning I have been dissecting any "passed motion" to ensure things are moving "properly"  so to speak.

In the lane this morning William stopped for a number 2, and with a rather surprised expression on his face, started to pass what can be only described as brown plastic bunting.

I bent down and holding one part of the plastic I started to "unravel" the mess slightly-in an effort to ensure that all had been passed safely....(I also have to say that the other end had not quite left William's bum asI did so )...........

Anyhow, I was only thinking to myself of how "odd" this spectacle must have looked when a woman in a 4 x 4 drove past. ( regular readers may remember when I  accidentally hit a passing car with a lump of pastry- well it was the same woman!)

Bugger alone knows just what she was thinking as she looked at us. She just gave me somewhat of a perplexed look before carrying on.

"Could you just?"

The sun arrived this afternoon!

Albert with his stiff back leg ( the one that was broken four years ago) quickly found a warm spot in which to give himself some heat physiotherapy and I was just photographing him  when a guy and two children turned up in a car from down the lane

I saw the cat basket they retrieved from the boot and thought to myself...."more beaks to feed"

....and of course I was right

Three delicate and rather vociferous juvenile hens have now joined the field population,

Will I am... or is it Fergie?

I have nicknamed them "The black eyed peas"

Happy Birthday

A Normal Welsh Outfit

Today is my sister in law's Birthday, it's another milestone for her in a somewhat difficult year - I cannot quite believe that we have nearly reached the first anniversary of my brother's death.

Time sees to gallop on when you are teetering on the wrong side of 50, does it not?

It only seems like yesterday that we were all struggling with that awful experience of losing a sibling, a husband and a father and now we are almost 12 months down the line

People that "Marry into" a family, often morph effortlessly into that family.

Jayne is such a person. She was "there" when Janet and I were still children. She was there when we have hurtled through the brickbats of adulthood..

and she will be there, I am sure, when we will be all drawing our pensions

Happy Birthday Chuck!

We will call up later

x

Dogs On The Beach

William, a dog with a personality as sweet as Gone with the Wind's Melanie

 We are blessed with good natured dogs. Not that a sweet nature is a mere accident of birth., animals like dogs that are nurtured well in a pack, more often than not develop a gentleness and sociability ideal for sharing a house with.

Welsh Terriers are robust, inquisitive and happy dogs. They also have a rather sweet habit of sitting and watching something that they are unsure of or have not experienced before.  This behaviour gives them a somewhat benign  demeanour and the "look"of an all seeing teddy bear.

Even though we live in the deep and green Welsh countryside, Trelawnyd is, in fact only a couple of miles from the sea as the crow flies (it is not an easy walk as we are around 600 feet above the coastal plain) The beaches are open, often deserted and ideal for dogs, as they can run and run until their tongues loll and their legs wobble

Meg and Chris watching the sea

 

Is it George or is it a ventriloquists dummy?

The Rector's Bun's

John & James- two semi finalists in the Bake off!

The Italian restaurant that we took the vicar to produced a so-so kind of meal, but we had quite a Jolly time because as it turned out, the Robert is quite a fan of BBC's The Great British Bake off, so over a glass of Chianti we conspiratorially slagged off the know all Brendan and waxed lyrically over the virtues of John's recent gingerbread Colosseum.

The vicar  confided to us that he was in fact a dab hand at the old baking lark, so immediately I struck a bit of a coup and conscripted him for entries in our 2013 Trelawnyd Flower Show!

The village ladies and I  will be wetting ourselves in anticipation of seeing just how well his Victoria sponge turns out!.....

Here's hoping he can come up with the goods!
The challenge is ON!
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ps I also just want to say a quick thank you to all of the readers of this daily diary. For some obscure reason I am now having around 1000 page view hits daily and up to 400 people log in for updates on my sheep taming, chicken tales and my own, slightly obscure reality stories of village life.
It's a small life to share, but I am grateful for being able to do so, it's my therapy
hey ho x

More Tea Vicar?.....And The Devil Of Whitechapel

Sometimes I feel as though I live on the set of tv's Miss Marple

Village life can be somewhat bizarre to say the least

This morning was a case in point for at 7.30 neighbour Mandy saw me filling the feed buckets and yelled over in rather a Kenneth Williams type of way

"Can you do anything with a big marrow?"

I bit my tongue to prevent a witty reply

It was just too early!

Tonight Chris and I are off out to dinner with the vicar.

We don't eat out much so it's all a bit of a treat!

He's quite a jolly fellow, so I know the conversation won't be centred wholly on deep theological theory and garden fetes.....but it is dinner with the vicar! 

........I do actually live in St Mary Mead!

Speaking of St Mary Mead, (a village that must have one of the highest murder rates this side of the Bronx) I am reminded that Jack the Ripper is coming to Trelawnyd in the new Year!

Affable despot Jason,( who is a bit of a Whitechapel murder geek), has managed to organise somewhat of a social coup and has arranged for Retired British Police Murder Squad Detective, Trevor Marriot to come to the memorial Hall to talk about how he has applied modern day policing methods to the infamous Ripper murders of 1888!
Fascinating stuff !!I adore this kind of thing!

 It's all go!!
For locals, the evening will be on  
Saturday 18th may 2013, ticket prices are £12 for adults, £10 concessions

and no kids, I am afraid...for obvious reasons

Now where's that poison ?

Les femmes du 6ème étage

Les femmes du 6ème étage ( The Women on the 6th Floor) has an interesting plot. It's 1962 and Spanish maids (women who have left Franco's Spain) are all the rage amongst their Upper class Parisian "bosses".
In one apartment building a stuffy and repressed middle aged banker (Fabrice Luchini) is won over by the gaggle of Spanish "help" who inhabit the top floor and suddenly embarks on a voyage of discovery about himself and what he wants in life....


Sounds good? Yes I thought so... but apart from a rather winning Spanish Cast of despots (one of whoom Berta Ojea looks remarkable like a raven haired Clarissa Dixon Wright), the film really didn't work for me as the French lead (Luchini) seemed to be devoid of any charm or sympathy.
I was in the minority however, for as the credits rolled, and our uptight hero finally embraced his new found Spanish roots, the mainly elderly audience at Theatre Clwyd gave him an unexpected round of applause......
I was walking to the exit when they stared! 7/10    

Cogburn's morning out

Cogburn, the blind cockerel does have an occasional opportunity to walk free of his small run and is able to warm his face in the sun when it eventually dares to shine.

I take the old chap out when I have a moment, and with me watching out for the other cockerels who would severely injure Cogburn if they could, he will shuffle around the grass with a controlled kind of excitement, always clucking gently to himself as he does so.

I have to constantly talk to him when we go out, and with that meagre contact, he regains his confidence and pride and stretches himself tall in response to the breeze and the sun.

It never ceases to move me.

A creature who by all accounts should have died a long time ago, is living and thriving, with his own little troupe of hens for company. He has adapted to his life in darkness by learning how to feel his way with his big fat feathered feet, and as animals have a want to do, he is just getting on with things....to creatures like him..there is no alternative

This morning we walked for a bit through the wet grass, followed by a few of the tame warrens and flanked by the sheep, who curious as ever, wanted to give the strange bird with the goose stepping feet the once over.

We made a bizarre specticle as we made our way slowly through the field

 

Who would have thought a blind old cockerel would be important enough to have his own blog entry?

Go Figure