I must Be Orally Fixated

Note to self:

Don't feed the dogs at the same time as making a meat pie!

It's been a busy old morning and I have been rushing around like a blue arsed fly.

Shopworn but still going Theresa the turkey

Yesterday, when I was out at the beach with the dogs, one of the ewes got stuck in the turkey enclosure fencing. Luckily next door neighbour JF saved her, but the side effect of all this little drama was that Bingley, the turkey stag, escaped and attacked the poor defenceless one eyed Theresa again.

She survived the assault and survived the night but this morning looked a sorry state indeed.

I have spend somewhat of a difficult hour cleaning her up at the kitchen sink, before spending an equally difficult time cleaning great globs of turkey shit up from the worktop and kitchen floor... !

Such is life on a miniature farm.

Anyhow back to the meat pie.

After I had sterilised the work tops, I got stuck in with making the aforementioned meat pie,

It was a bit of a rush job, when there is only seven hours of daylight left to you!

Beef, gravy, onions, mushrooms.... the filling  looked pretty rustic and bloody mouthwatering I can tell you, but I was good, I didnt take a huge mouthful of meat covered spoon until after I fed the dogs their dinners.

Yes......... 

you may be there a little before me

I picked up the wrong spoon.

and a substantial gobful of butcher's natural nutrition lamb, rice and pea dog food was not quite what I was expecting.

Could have been worse 
Now did I actually bleach those worktops, or did I just think about it?

Windmills of your Mind

For Johnno

A Goose is not just for Christmas...it's for life

One Day I suspect we will have to leave the village.

Chris' career will, I am sure, necessitate the move to another University in another part of the country, but that day, I am sure, is not rearing it's worrying head just at the moment.

When it does, I will cope with the fact.

We did it once,

we can do it again.

The "short term" animals have a tendency to replace themselves easily. Hens, ducks,guinea fowl can always be found a new home or  can be replaced. The dogs , the blind Cogburn and Albert can go anywhere, for they are more adaptable than humans, no, my only worry amongst the menagerie if we did have to move would be the geese.

My geese do possess a particular corner in my heart.

There is something very special about them.

I understand that much of this attachment  comes from the fact that I hand reared the three females from goslings (see above video of Winnie and Jo after imprinting on me soon after hatching)

But, I also know that it also comes from the fact that geese can live to well into their 20s.....

It's a sobering thought when you realise that an animal will be with you longer than the average child stays with their parents.

Even dogs only remain with you a decade or so.

I had a dream this morning that we were off to live in Japan

(why the hell was I dreaming of Japan?)

Anyhow in the dream  we set off in the Berlingo to drive to our new home (it's only 6000 odd miles!) with the dogs , cat and Rooster Cogburn all sat on the back seat ... and sitting in the boot, all calm and still and compliant were the geese.....

A Goose is not just for Christmas

In our Cottage

They are .......well for...... life!

Christmas Cards

There is less to him than meets the eye.

Must be one of my most favourite of  insults

It has been attributed to many wits but I suspect that  the actress and bonne vivante Tallulah Bankhead, was the original source.

I was only thinking about this quote whilst on my merry way delivering the Village Christmas Cards this morning.

The weather (as bloody usual) is a bit cold and wet, and even when  some of the envelopes did finally look a little dog eared and mucky by the time I had finished schelping around the mucky country lanes with bored dirty dogs in tow, I was happy that it was all a job well done!

Looking back to Trelawnyd from the farms south West of the village

Anyhow, like I was saying, I was thinking about "that quote" as I marched around.- well more specifically the original saying that was so cleverly turned around by Miss Bankhead

"There is more to him than meets the eye"

When I was waiting for the funeral of Mrs Jones to start, I fell into conversation with a chap from the village who is a farmer. He's very Welsh, very friendly and can be seen frequently around the village in his landrover,overalls and wellingtons.

The last thing you would perhaps think of when you looked at him, was that he had, over recent years, climbed numerous peaks in the Himalayas, roughed the elements in Australia's toughest Outback regions and had travelled to more countries than Alan Whicker at his most jet setting

 I was so surprised and entertained by his stories that I suggested he should write his own blog which outlined his adventures....

"it would make "Going gently" look somewhat pedestrian", I told him , "that's for sure!"

I am always reminded of  not "Judging a book by it's cover" when I spy another of the village characters battling for control over her overly aggressive collie when out for a walk.

Mrs Trellis can still be seen hurtling along the few pavements that we have here in Trelawnyd, calling out "whoa!!!!!!!!!!" with a slightly exasperated air as she is dragged from one potential safe haven to another.

Small,white haired and bespectacled, it is perhaps easy to forget that when she  was just a little younger she was solely responsible for the  safe delivery of literally thousands of babies in an inner city midwifery department.

AGAIN... books and covers come to mind!  

Anyhow I will leave you with an E Christmas Card that I received from affable despot Jason and fellow Chicken "fruit cake" Greta

Perhaps after reading this...You could think that there is "more to me than meets the eye!"

tee hee

You'd be wrong!

How's Sandra?

Nigel has just gone home after 24 hours of surreal conversation and  a slight overdose  from the Village Christmas Fair.....it was nice to see him.

Speaking of surreal conversations, this is a genuine conversation I had with a fellow villager who I will call Huw.

I saw him last night when I took the dogs out for their final walk. Huw was smoking a fag outside his house and  I called over to see how his wife was. She had been "unwell " for a few days

"How's Sandra?" I called

"She got dysentery!" Huw called back

Me: (concerned) "Where is she?- has she been hospitalized?"

Huw (deadpanning wonderfully) "No...she's upstairs eating chips!"

I chuckled all the way home

Made To Suffer

Glen and Maggie are safe

Daryl isn't

Tyreese has turned up with a few others

and Carol states she isn't a Lesbian

The walking Dead gets better!

Hey Ho
Series 3 continues in Feb

Operation Dog Snot and "pass the sick bowl"

Nigel is visiting this weekend

so I am in the process of bleaching the cottage

Even the dogs have been bathed

I ran out of dog shampoo

So all three are now all puffed up and reeking of Dove Supreme Satin Beauty

It's smells like a tart's boudoir in here

***********************************************************************

ps

Well in between making butternut squash  soup,mince pies for the Village Christmas Fayre,  a fresh loaf of bread and banging off the occasional blog...operation "dog snot removal" is going quite well.

Mind you I have been knocked a bit sick by the antics of a tree surgeon over at the Rectory, who has been dominating my attention at the kitchen window.

No he's not an aussie hunk ( my eyesight is not THAT good) no, it's just the fact that every time he moves around the tree ( some 50 feet from the ground at least) I feel as though I am going to puke.

I cannot abide heights

Look carefully..he's way up the bloody tree

Flowers at Night

The weather last night went all a bit haywire.

Hail, rain, and a single loud clap of thunder lashed the cottage and field and at around 11pm the windows  literally rattled in their frames when huge gusts of wind came literally out of nowhere.

I debated whether or not to check on the state of the Ukrainian village, and heart won over from brains, and so with my trusty wind up torch in hand, I wandered around in the dark

I am glad I did, as the roof of one hen house had been removed completely and had sailed halfway across the field. The 8 hens inside had remained safe, and had crammed themselves into just two nest boxes for safety

It reminded me of one of those Guinness Book of records attempts where a load of bored students get crammed into a telephone box for a laugh.

Anyhow I repaired the hen house and was schelping my way back across the mud when I spied the chunky figure of a badger trotting out of the gloom from the direction of the graveyard. It had something in its mouth, and fascinated I melted back against Cogburn's tall coop to watch him.

Bizarrely the badger was carrying a small posy of  flowers with grim determination.They looked to be white blooms and could have been,in fact plastic

The Posy was probably a tribute from one of the graves in the graveyard.

I wondered if they were from Mrs Jones' grave,

the last burial in the village.

The badger eventually tottered past me and disappeared into the dark with his head held high

Funny what you see when you don't expect it