A Little Bit Of Colour

Ok.....we are back to miserable weather and torrential rain.
I am just about to start making Paul Hollywood's mince pies  (yes, he's that tv silver Fox and sexy sidekick of Mary Berry) and I am need of a little colour in today's grey and dismal day.

The colour, as it happened, arrived in the shape of some custard yellow steps over at the pensioner bungalows, and the story about just how they got there is an abject lesson in "jobs worth health and safety gone mad as well as being an illustration that Trelawnyd is not always populated by benign Welsh speaking saints who spend most of the day smiling, holding hands and singing "Kunbaya!"

A while ago I saw one of the pensioners who was busy painting a small, narrow white line on the top of his concrete step which is an old trick to highlight the location of the step especially when it is dark. The job was incredibly neat and professionally done, so it was with some  surprise when a few days later the painter told me that another villager had reported the work to the council stating that the painted line was indeed a health and safety issue.
Representatives from the council were summonsed
Heads were scratched
Battle lines were drawn and as there is a want with petty community issues, emotions ran high as the heavy handed council eventually wheeled their power
and this is the result of their deliberations

Custard Yellow steps!

As I passed the steps I pointed to the pensioners who were standing stock still looking incredulously at the neon glow  and called out  cheerfully "apparently you can see them from Space!"

The pensioner scowled

"It's like living on the ruddy set of The Wizard of Oz" he muttered

What's Going To Happen To Us All? eh?

I had just gotten stuck in to the mountain of papers that are Chris' expense forms, when the phone went.
It was a friend of a lady from the village who I had visited earlier in the day.
"Could I pop round and re set the boiler settings?"
"She's pressed the buttons and we're not sure if things are working properly" the friend explained
It wasn't a problem, I was happy to go around.
Now before the more sensitive of you start reaching for the "aren't you an angel!" buttons on your computer keyboard....DON'T...calling around to help this lady who has recently suffered a marked deterioration in her memory and abilities due to a stroke, is something quite a few of the villagers are doing at the moment.....so please don't mark me out to be some sort of Florence Nightingale.....it's just that the whole situation around Christmas and this lady that has gotten me thinking about Chris and I.
When we are frail and in need.
Who will be around to help us re set the boiler when our little grey cells have magically forgotten just how to do it?
The answer is a worrying one.....
As two ageing old Queens with no kids we are effectively and practically "on our own".

I couldn't help thinking about this especially when it has come to our attention that the lady in question will be on her own Christmas day. She has a family living away, but because of reasons unknown they will not be visiting until Boxing day. Or so goes the story.
Not to step onto any toes if this rather sad fact was not indeed true, I wrote down on a pad that Chris and I would call around on Christmas day with a drink and "Something nice from Marks to share!"
( for those that don't know "Marks" is indeed "Marks and Spencer" THE place that anyone of a certain age would go for superior Christmas Nibbles!!!!).
The note which I placed on the lady's "pottering around trolley" would be a reminder to her and to any family or visitors that we would do so. I also left our telephone number on the pad.
If family or other friends have arranged things for the day, fine and dandy.... that means more nibbles for us!, if not.....well it's only a couple of hours out of our day.

I pray we remain healthy and able well into our dotage.

I want to be like Auntie Glad ( without the shampoo and set)
Fiercely independent and "with it" .

.............I don't want to worry about who will come and re set the boiler.

Sound Charades

I

DO enjoy the radio quiz show I'm Sorry I haven't a clue. It has become a regular treat in our household, and is something I delight in when I am "washing the pots" after dinner.

Tonight's "double entendre" about Christopher Biggins ( a fat camp and openly gay personality here in the UK) enjoying a "Toad in the hole" during his acting run of Wind In the Willows had me spitting all over the kitchen tonight.... it's all delightfully British in it's muckiness!

Of course I couldn't find that particular one liner..so I will leave you with Humphrey Littleton delivering a similar witticism from a couple of years ago.....

Even if you are not au fait with the programme, I hope you will enjoy the joke

Treats

Carluccio's

Nutcracker

In between the Normal

We've had a nice weekend

Eggs Benedict at Carluccio's in Chester on Saturday

(Where the service from a beaming waitress offset perfectly (for me) the trauma  of Christmas Shopping.)

 And on Sunday we caught a filmed version of the Bolshoi's Nutcracker,

which as usual was a real delight.

No matter how many times we have seen this ballet, it never really fails to impress

I haven't any Christmas night's out planned this year so it was a lovely 

to have these two treats.

(even though during the Bolshoi's interval, when the great and the good sipped their mulled wine, I had to drive home and back from Prestatyn like Speedy Gonzales to lock up the hens!)

Fiction becomes a Reality & 76 for Winter

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

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.

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

Sister Wendy or could it be Audrey Hepburn?

ps

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

I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue

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!

The Welsh Have Done Something Right

i
watched the Movie Shadowlands again tonight and was completely blown away by Anthony Hopkins wonderful ability to cry "On Camera".... Just watch this scene with Joseph Mazzello (the kid from Jurassic Park)
It pulls your guts out
In my mind Hopkins out classes the likes of Richard Burton anyday

Sod The Guilt

We are going to stuff our fat faces this Christmas, 

sod any guilt

Gluttony.....eat your heart out!

M.I.L has sent a welcomed addition to the fudfest

in the shape of this all singing and all dancing Christmas Cake

Thanks Sorrel

x

Christmas Moments

Our Snow Globe in the Cottage's Christmas lights

Yesterday the village took on a particularly "Christmasy" feel.

A single Christmas tree, complete with lights had been set up outside the village Hall and as I passed through Chapel Street with the dogs, the Village School Children tumbled out of the memorial Hall dressed as angels, Yuletide fairies and selection of animals. I had to smile as I spied one lone figure,  following the others, dressed, quite bizarrely as the Easter Bunny.

Nativity plays are not quite what they once were.

Several of the school Governors came down the steps and I said hello to Pat (my animal helper) who had enjoyed the play with Daphne.

"Was it good?" I asked them

Pat nodded " It was lovely....but I have no idea what it was all about" she laughed 

Little traditions such as these are happening all over the world.

Kids with tea towels on their heads singing "away in a manger"

I was somewhat "hung over" yesterday. Not through any alcohol but I was "jet lagged and muggy" following a particularly sad night shift on Wednesday. I looked after a dying young man, the son of people I know.

There is something  dreadfully poignant about a bereavement at this time of year.

When I got home, there was a small package left on the garden gate. Inside was a Christmas card from one of my egg customers and with it were two beautifully wrapped pieces of Christmas Cake, each one individually decorated with tiny edible sprigs of Holly.

With Chris working away, I sat  in front of the fire , on perhaps the coldest day of the year, and ate them still dressed in my hat and coat.

A  melancholic little Christmas moment
 ......we all need them from time to time