A £2.50 Win

Last night I teamed up with affable despot Jason and went to the Quiz up at The Crown.

Before I went, I took the dogs around the village for a walk, a thing I don't usually do on an evening, as our final walk of the day is usually confined to a quick "wee stop" down the lane near the cottage.

The village takes on a wholly different character on a wintry night, a thing I have not really realised before.

For a Monday evening the village seemed very busy.The lights were on in the memorial hall as the bingo night was still in full swing and on London road the small congregation was leaving the Chapel   after some meeting or other.

In houses and cottages , I could see lights from lamps and the flickering twinkle from tvs and I remember thinking that

the village looked more alive, vital and populated than ever it does during a rainy Autumn daytime.
Light give a place warmth and a heart....

During a cold day, nothing seems to stir behind net curtains and behind closed doors

Weird that

Anyhow, Jason and I won £2.50 at the quiz!

The grey haired "Dyserth Six"  won the main prize ( I suspect that they actually supplement their megre pensions with regular quiz winnings) and at one point there ensued a somewhat lively and challenging debate when Jason spied another team desperately searching the Internet on their blackberrys for the answer to the quiz question

"What is a Rubicon?"

 Now That's not really playing the game ..is it?

Mind you, it was all good light hearted banter, and it was nice to chat with other neighbours after the quiz itself..... with Chris still away,things have been somewhat quiet around here
The Crown Pub recent review!)

Post Loo Chuckles

why 
do I find this funny?
Bugger alone knows,
But it did make me smile after a somewhat fraught few minutes this morning
when I had to "hover" over the loo bowl
(a skill only women have mastered in this world...am I right ladies?)
Sigh.......We are only a stone's throw away from being savages
are we not?

Welcome Back Mr Dixon

My Previous disaster post has depressed me somewhat, so I will endeavour to cheer myself up by celebrating the return of The Walking Dead,, scheduled for UK showing  on Friday!
(This evening in the US)

Surprisingly enough The Walking Dead cast are the only people on earth that dress as badly than I do!

A Rat ..... a Broken Bog Bowl......and an Aspidistra

You couldn't make it up
One minute I was watching Lisa Reilly waltzing around the dance floor like a galleon in full sail in Strictly Come Dancing.
The next I was bouncing around the bathroom after a half grown rat and a skinny black cat that  really should know better.
How Albert actually dragged the rat through the cottage from outside without any of us knowing totally baffles me, but smuggled it in he did and in the "fight" that followed ( at one point me, cat, rat and three dogs were all wrestling with each other on the bathroom floor), an art deco glass bowl was knocked from the cistern top and when it smashed it took part of the bog bowl with it.
The rat, must have eaten some of the rat poison I had placed under the goose house, for it was bleeding like a stuck pig by the time I had effectively smothered it with a towel then pounded the offending "lump" several times with the potted aspidistra which sits next to the bath..
I am getting a little tired of all this rodent present giving.. this is the second rat this year!
This time, this little disaster will be an insurance claim
I can't wait to see the loss adjuster's face when I explain what happened.

The rat incidentally is now approximately 1 inch thick and has been removed to be buried 
I could cry

For Chris

With Chris away, the normal cottage routine has changed albeit  subtly.

Meg, the most nervous of the animals has felt this change and has been more clingy than she normally is, and has followed my every move like the proverbial shadow.

This morning I took her outside with me for breakfast and we shared a bagel and watched the field together.

It was not raining, which made a nice change.

I am typing this as we sit there together to remind Chris of home.... I think he is feeling the distance between Australia and Trelawnyd....despite his job, he never really likes being away from home

Since George had a bout of salmonella, I have kept all of the dogs well away from the field, so it was the first time the ewes have had the opportunity to meet any of the house dogs.

Both walked up to their usual 5 feet away and gave Meg the once over, stamping their hooves sharply in the grass as they did so.

I have noticed this behaviour when Albert stalks the field, and hope that if a fox does indeed turns up during the day, the sheep will face it off in a similar fashion.

We sat there and watched the geese who with the turkey stag Bingley had gone over to the gate to challenge Pippa and her dogs as they passed by. The geese bowed their heads noisily and Bingley rattled his feathers. They never tire of doing this, and must repeat the behaviour a thousand times a day.

The "Black Eyed Peas" slink away from the main flock and disappear into the long grass. I have noticed that all new hens do this when they first arrive. They spend time of the peripheries of field, out of harm's way, like bullied schoolboys hiding in the playground. In a week or so's time they will pluck up enough confidence to join in the feeding time scrums, and will fight for the titbits with the rest of them.

The blind Cogburn crows lustily from his sunny spot in his enclosure and the field cockerels answer him as the Aylesbury ducks bicker together nearby. One of the Aylesbury ducks is indeed a large drake, and is a huge bugger. I am contemplating having him for Christmas dinner, which may please Chris.

He loves eating duck.

We Will see.

I need to utilise the dryness of the morning really.

Eight coops need cleaning and I am overdue with collecting the last of the raspberries

But as Meg seems to be enjoying herself

I think we shall sit here a little longer and watch the world go by

The Case For The Prosecution Rests........

Now I have posted this comment, that featured in the next post, in way of supporting the somewhat self depreciating reality of my own personalised style

just in case you, dear reader, ever think that I exaggerate my stories...read on

Jason, I thank you

jason10:31 AM

"little tale about John for you....about two weeks ago, we had about 4 days of incessant rain and he was out and about dressed as an Alaskan Crab fisherman in the Berings straits.......he was waterproofed from head to er...well ankle.....because despite all his weather gear and obvious deep rooted awareness not to get his clothes wet in any way shape or form, he had ventured out in the same damn crocs !! he had socks on underneath as well !! what did ZZTOP say ? "Every girls crazy about a sharped dressed man..."....thats not John....he looks like a bag lady always carrying a small bag of dog poo !! - he is has become the Trelawnyd equivalent of the weird cat lady or that lady who sits on a bench in town feeding the disgusting street pigeons and letting them sit on her shoulders ! .....he will go down in history as one of the oddballs of Trelawnyd !!people will be blogging about him in about 50 years.....thats what makes him interesting !!"

What a Catch!

It's bloody well only 5 am -ish and I have just taken Chris up to the A55 to catch his lift to the airport,

I have waked the dogs, and am now wide awake at least two hours before dawn.

It is cold and very wet and I am lauging at myself.

The reason for such humour is testosterone,

For I have just suffered from a small bout of  male "my dick is bigger than your dick!"

We parked at the service station waiting for Chris' colleague to turn up in her husband's four wheel drive.

They are lovely people,I know them both well, but both are really the mirror opposite of Chris and I , as they are complete healthy outdoor bods!

My buried male competition hormones started to surface when his huge, gleaming monster of the truck glided next to the crumpled side of the old berlingo ( right next to the passenger window that has been stuck in the slightly "down" position for 2 years!)

Hubby who is older than me and looks 30, bounded out of the vehicle in his lovely designer climbing gear and trendy boots. He has a  32 waist, teeth that Donny Osmond would kill for and two dogs in the truck that follow every command as if they had been trained by the police force.
In short he looks like a young Charlton Heston without the guns

I clambered out of the Berlingo (farting quietly as I did so)

I am 50 and look 60.

There is coffee splashed on the front of my hoodie and my woolly hat is inside out.

One trouser leg is somehow tucked into my socks .

I am wearing crocs.

and six months of dog snot is smeared all over the car windows behind me.

I look like Harvey Fierstein when he was in Independence Day

As he effortlessly lifted Chris' bags into the back of the monster van, he looked chipper and healthy and all "man"

I stood in a puddle looking all knackered, untidy and wrecked.

And as usual I resorted to humour when faced with unbeatable competition

"I am not being nice to you all" I said with a little wave and a sigh "I don't do mornings!"

and I let Chris get off  to sunny Australia with a kiss

The Black Eyed Pea "Screamers"

The Black Eyed Pea "screamers"

 Ok we shift a gear from Scotch Eggs to unnaturally loud poultry

I have been out in my wellies and raincoat four times now in an effort to pay one of the local farm boys who has trimmed the over grown hawthorn hedge which surrounds the field.

On the second fruitless trip I heard an amazing din coming from the field and galloped around to find out just what was going on.

The din could only really be described as animals in distress, and birds really only  scream like this when they are being attacked by a predator, so I gabbed a nearby hoe and galloped into the field to search for the fox.

The screaming came from the bottom of the field, and when I finally reached the spot, all I could locate was the three black eyed peas, which were all sat quietly in a row facing off badger the young cockerel, who was watching them with some interest.

I crouched down in the wet grass to watch was going on and I was joined by the ever curious Irene who stamped her feet in frustration at not getting a tit bit of corn out of me. We only had to wait a few seconds, for as Badger approached the three hens again, all three opened their beaks and screamed at him like three miniature Opera singers .

I have never quite seen the like of it before.

Can any other poultry keeper help me out here? 

Hens always squawk a little when cockerels try it on, but I have never seen hens scream in the face of a "threat" before and do so in unison.....they actually sounded like three rooks with Louis Armstrong tendencies

Ok, it's perhaps not as interesting as I previous hinted it was.... but I guess it interested me

Irene getting tamer!