One Big Happy Family

 Even yesterday, the toll of travelling to and fro from Australia had made it's mark. So I suggested Chris went to bed early to "catch up" whilst I went to Theatre Clwyd to see the awful French film

Le Petit Nicolas

I managed around an hour of the film ( which was more saccharine than a bowl full of sweetex) before I walked out and as the volunteer usherette let me out she whispered

"Is everything alright?"

"The film's shite!" I replied sweetly

I wish everything was as "sweet" on the field.

For some reason relationships between some of the residents have gone all pear shaped .

Yesterday the old turkey Theresa was attacked by her mate Bingley who left her looking as though she should be immediately whisked away to the nearest battered turkey refuge.

Before I could come to her rescue, the only protection the old gal could find was to stick her head into the nearest bush, which probably saved her life, but even so, she looked a very sorry state. this morning when I cleaned her face up with some soothing witch hazel.

There must be some Darwinian reason for animal bullying, Rivalry between males and indeed females I can understand, but an attack between mates is somewhat baffling.

Theresa doing her Phantom Of The Opera impersonation

 Below is  the pathetic looking body of one of the field bantams Somehow she had been shut into the duck house at dusk last night and must have been given a good seeing to overnight by the ducks, for,  she was collapsed and near death this morning.

I covered her with warm sawdust and placed her gently into a dog carrier.

I doubt she will bounce back, shocked hens seldom do.

But I shall give her the chance

 So with more violence around than is usually seen on an average night out in Rhyl on a Friday night, I couldn't quite believe my eyes when the ewes started a bout of "bitch slapping" between themselves this morning.

I watched as they locked horns and head butted each other like miniature rams, and as the "clatter" of horn upon horn echoed around the field, I said to no one in particular

" oh sod the lot of you!"

and I have left them all to it

We're Bloody Gorgeous..we are

As a child I always envied the fat plain kid who blindly believed their parents' affirmations that he/she was a beautiful child..

I think that these sort of little people often grow up to be confident, well rounded but still plain individuals, who know what it is to love and to be loved.

I was reminded of  those school kids the moment  I noticed that our new village signs  have been erected. and although they are not perhaps the ones that I would have picked, I must admit that I love the very "chutzpah" of  what they have to say

Trelawnyd is situated within some lovely countryside, but the village itself, could never really be described as a "chocolate box " style village. True we have a picturesque Church and some lovely flower beds but the village remains what it has always been, and that is a small predominantly working class village which is not populated by what I would term as the plastic "Homes and Gardens- designer country dweller brigade"

Our new signs, celebrate the affection which is felt for the village.

For Trelawnyd is that plain fat kid with chubby cheeks and a bad haircut from my childhood

....warts and all

and do you know what?

it IS beautiful

Ram It Home

There was a meeting of the Gwaenysgor and Trelawnyd Community Council last night.

During a hiatus in the proceedings I caught the eye of The Red Faced Welsh Farmer (RFWF) who was chuckling to himself over something or other.

Starting off in a stage whisper he quipped "I saw your sheep the other day!...... lovely ..!"

then added in a  deep booming voice reminiscent of Sid James at his very best 

"DO YOU WANT A RAM?"

When they were perusing through some building applications the other members of the council only caught his last sentence, which caused a few quizzical expressions I can tell you,

Such is the excitement of a rural community council meeting.

For those who have never met the RFWF, I perhaps need to clarify that he is partially deaf so has a tendency to BOOM  within normal conversations.

It is a habit that can make even the stout hearted jump somewhat when he catches you unawares....

but I do find this habit somewhat endearing , especially when you can watch the often started reaction he has on the more nervous members of the community.

As my mother used to say

"he has a voice that could cut bread!"

Anyhow I am sure that a ram will indeed be forthcoming

When the RFWF had a mind to do something

It will be done

The RFWF centre ( of course)

Squeaks from Plastic

Yesterday's post was somewhat depressing was it not? 

I am sort of sorry for posting it now. Sad stories are not always the best medicine here in blogland.

Unfortunately bad news has a strange way of piling up in front of you, a bit like when someone blocks one of those moving walk ways at the airport and a bottle neck of slightly stressed holiday makers crowd uncomfortably together without looking at each other...

One  bleak snippet after another seem to have an irritating habit of adding to an oppressive heavy feeling of  gloom which is not helped by our season of wet, dark weather which has now set in for the duration.

For the likes of Tom  today's trials will be another bit of shit to be coped with. and let's hope fate's ability to lob shit "overarm" rather than underarm will give things a rest for all of us soon..

Alas life isn't Little House On The Prairie......not everything is resolved by Laura Ingalls after 50 minutes of skipping

I am lucky, very lucky....... for my "black dog" of  last year's winter has lifted now and I am firm in the idea that possessing a sense of humour is one of the most vital things available to  a person when your mental health  status quo needs nurturing.

I will leave you with one of those "little moments" that gives a person a lift when you are not quite expecting it.

Saturday we were mooching along the supermarket shelves doing the week shop ( how Chris managed if after a 24 hour flight bugger only knows).

Anyhow on impulse I had an urge to get one of the squeaky toys for William from the pet section , and started to look through the rather eclectic selection of plastic bones, balls and rubber chickens!

As I did so a middle aged woman joined me and without saying anything both of us started to "check the squeaks" to find out which one was most appropriate for our needs.

It was a brief, slightly surreal interaction which finished only after I overly squashed a rubber chicken which "farted" rather wetly between us and she quipped "ohhh matron!" in way of a response .

A silly little moment to be sure.... but if I was depressed and sad ( which incidentally I was not) it would have been a little tonic that I needed....

So to Tom, to a couple of people I know here in Trelawnyd and to a dear friend

I am squeaking that Rubber Chicken at you!
ps YP before you say anything I was squeaking the chicken NOT choking it!)

Something In The Air

Maes-y-groes Prestatyn

I knew something was wrong in Prestatyn yesterday, even before I saw the official yellow police tape that cordoned off the main bypass road....you could just feel it.

It was an odd sensation and one that I have not really experienced before, but immediately after I parked on the High Street, I  realised something was afoot, something was very different.

Instead of  the usual fluid movement of elderly shoppers and the limping institutional disabled that fill the pavements of the town, people were talking together in quiet huddles.

The town felt quiet and still.

Like I said , it was the oddest of sensations.

I was reminded of times I have waited around for the start of a funeral. 

There was that certain charge in the.air.

For anyone who has read the national newspapers or listened to the radio, they will know that the news was bleak. 

A young woman and two children* had perished in a fire just yards from where I was parked. A fire that was thought to be deliberate.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-north-east-wales-20018867

Bad news changes a community. It unites it with striking speed. People who wouldn't give each other the normal time of day in front of the butchers, now stop to discuss the "awful news" or to shake their heads in disbelief as other snippets of the saga are shared and postulated about.

Even the moderately sized town of Prestatyn turns itself back into a village, when disaster strikes.

It's a interesting phenomenon.

In these days of nuclear families, of selfish living, isolation and where neighbours don't even know each other , even to nod to; I think that deep down there still is the need within people to connect, to feel comfort in sharing. To be a part of a community.

With all the negative things that we are constantly being told about in the modern selfish world....

perhaps that is the one "good" thing to come out of something terrible like this...? even though it lasts for a mere day or so!
Hey ho
* another child has subsequently died today

Back Home

The Cottage has been tidy for a week

It has also been very quiet

It will be nice to have the old duffer back with me today

Zombie Charm?

Carol and Daryl

And so the 1970s disaster film continues

The Walking Dead Survivors take over a prison months after the second series left them farmless and broken, and we are introduced to a very different set of characters than we knew in rural Atlanta.

 Rick ( Andrew Lincoln) is meaner and more focused alpha leader. The women and Carl ( the only child) are toughened up and now are an integral parts of the group and psychologically damaged redneck Daryl (Norman Reedus) and former "useless baggage" Carol (Melissa mcBride) are friends enough to flirt together like normal people which was a nice gentle touch in an episode where we saw some very serious zombie ass kicking!
I don't care if I sound like a geek
It was a Great roller- coaster ride !

Leaps of Faith

Trust is.......

Today's post is "inspired" by memories dug up by yesterday's post and  is centred around the use of basic psychological principles when caring for people and when looking after a troupe of eclectic animals.
This morning the last "first job" of the morning is to move the blind Cogburn from his sleeping quarters into his daytime run.
His two hens can negotiate the steep ladder down to the run, he obviously cannot, and so I have to physically lift him from his sleeping quarters, which is at a height of five feet or so from the ground..
From day one I have always talked to him and stroked him to reduce his anxiety of any new procedure and every time I was about to lift him, I say "come on". It is a key phrase that signals "safety" to his peanut sized brain.
Today  every time  "come on" is uttered Cogburn will launch himself forward into space, confident in the fact that I will "catch him" . His leap of faith is  simply a result of reducing his anxiety with continuity.
It's not rocket science.

Today I am reminded of an ex patient of mine called Raymond who I met him around 22 years ago when I started my staffing on the spinal injury re admission ward. Raymond had sustained a complicated spinal injury after a truly horrific accident when he was crushed between the buffers of two trains at work.
He had been in different hospitals for months, and had been transferred to our hospital for treatment for pain issues, skin problems and for rehabilitation.
Raymond clearly needed consistent nursing care and expert psychological  support. Back in the early 1990s we had not then employed a clinical psychologist and so much of the hands on care (physical and mental) was left to us, the nurses.
I was allocated to Raymond as his "Primary Nurse" and a slightly dim, cheerful nurse called Jane was chosen as his "associate" and I remember getting together with Jane to work out a way of approaching Raymond's pain issues, which were vast.
Every other day Raymond would have to have various dressings renewed and every other day he would scream the ward down in pain and fear when this procedure was carried out. Our job was to gain Raymond's trust by employing a whole range of interventions to reduce his anxiety and his pain.

When he was "well" Raymond was described as being a bit of a comic and a flirt (this information we gained from his wife) and so I had an idea to employ a slightly unconventional method of anxiety reduction when we turned him
The conversation between Jane (remember his other nurse?) and myself went roughly as follows.
Me: " Before we turn him towards you...  you stick your tits out and flirt a bit"
Jane:"huh?"
Me: "stick your tits out and give him an eyeful when he turns towards you.. you have a nice cleavage!"
Jane: "you really think so?"
Me "definitely!"
Jane sounding rather pleased: "ok!!"

I am simplifying the interaction somewhat but you will get the "Carry on film and sexist gist" of where I was coming from....
Politically so incorrect, but do you know what? It bloody well worked.

Jane ( who I thought  was secretly enjoying her role) stuck out her boobs in front of a slightly  impressed Raymond before we started and before he could scream she had rolled his face within a knat's crotchet of her straining and pneumatic bosom..
Of course we employed a huge amount of banter and humour before and after "the deed was done".We also used entinox gas and air and organised a plan with Raymond that we would be performing the dressing turn. all together everytime Jane and I were on duty.
In one fell swoop we ensured consistency, humour, effective pain relief and boobs.
It worked like a charm.

Was it professional? perhaps not.
Was it terribly sexist? --too bloody right it was
Would modern day nursing approve?
Perhaps not
Did it work?
Yes it sure did.......
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Good news today

Chris is just leaving Melbourne this morning

and 

The Walking Dead returns this evening.....