The animal population at Bwthyn-y-Llan has now plateaued at 76 souls.
The dreadfully wet year has seen off the ill, the old and the guinea fowl and the winter, I am sure will have it's effects on some of the more vulnerable of characters on the field.
But for now, things are static...
...for now.......
The six remaining Crackhead Whores (remember them?) have morphed quite nicely into the general population and have feathered up and put on weight .
I think I need to give them a different nickname now, as their sleek new plumage now belies their old somewhat unfortunate original title. Having said this the "useless little buggers" (Now referred to as the ULB'S) , will not have their name changed, as although they too have put on weight and stature, they remain useless little scraps of cheeping.that are no use or ornament to someone who needs to sell a few eggs to needy neighbours
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| The ULBs |
Thank God the ULB's have their own protected run. Ten minutes alone on the field and these tiny little fellas would be mincemeat.
The geese will face the winter weather with alacrity as will the more robust ducks. Only the hysterical Runners will need a few extra rations to see them through. They have not got an ounce of body fat on them.
It's like having 5 Kate Moss look-a-likes tottering around the place.
Apart from the "sheltered poultry", such as the blind Cogburn which have to be housed 24/7 for their own safety, the rest of the hens will have to like the bad weather or lump it.
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| The Blind Cogburn in his wonderful winter colours |
I have organised a few bales of haylage for the sheep, if we are hit hard with snow, but I suspect being highland sheep, Sylvia and Irene will be the best prepared of all the animals for a harsh winter.
Let's see how many of the 76 make it to spring..
I am typing this whilst listening to Kirsty Young interviewing Sister
Wendy Beckett on Desert Island Discs....
I have not smiled as much for ages In this bloody awful week where bad news has depressed us all...everyone should listen to this just the once
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| Sister Wendy or could it be Audrey Hepburn? |
This card tickled me today when it arrived. It was from Joyce ( the retired midwife from the village) who I always refer to as "Mrs Trellis from North Wales"
To those that don't know, Mrs Trellis is a silent "character" from the long standing radio quiz show
Wikipedia states:
"A regular feature on the programme, preceding the game Mornington Crescent, is a fictional letters section which begins with the chairman's comments ("I notice from the sheer weight of this week's postbag, we've received a little over no letters" and "I see from the number of letters raining down on us this week that the Scrabble factory has exploded again"). The invariably single letter each week is from "A Mrs Trellis of North Wales", whose incoherent letters usually mistake the chairman for another Radio 4 presenter or media personality. "Dear Libby" (she writes), "why oh why ... very nearly spells YOYO", or "Dear Mr Titchmarsh, never let them tell you that size isn't important. My aunt told me that, but then all my new wallpaper fell off."
Obviously Joyce knows that I refer to her as the famous "Mrs Trellis"
so much so, she is now signing her Christmas Cards accordingly! 
