Tradition

Just before Christmas there is always a steady tide of visitors to the graveyard beyond the field.

This morning as I was standing guard over Theresa, the old one eyed turkey ( she needs guarding when eating her bowl of corn as the sheep always bully her mercilessly), I watched as lone figures started to arrive at the Churchyard with Christmas wreaths clutched in gloved hands.

The tradition of Christmas wreaths on graves must be a comforting yet bittersweet affair and by Christmas Eve almost all of the newer graves behind the Church will be decorated with circles of Holly, spruce and Christmas flowers.

Our Graveyard is where I would like to be buried. To the North of it lies the pretty Church, and  to the South , fields of horses and the farm of Pen-y-cefn beyond. (Pen-y-Cefn was old Mrs Jones' farm) To the East is the Rectory and the rectory glebe and to West lies my field full of poultry, who are always in constant motion and activity.

The graveyard is surrounded by greenery and animals.

It's peaceful but in a strange way, a dynamic place to be.

As Theresa bolts down her corn, Meirion, another old face from the village, arrives with yet another wreath and as the geese bicker loudly with  Polenta ( the large aylesbury drake) I wave over as he totters between the gravestones to lay it down in the winter sunshine.

I feel like shit, only because I am tired after last night's shift

Being outside and  watching the potentially melancholic  to-ing and fro-ing at the Church , is somehow rather relaxing  and comforting

It's become a tradition all of my own

The Graveyard from the West

Anyhow, With The Christmas Build up, reading blogs will the the last thing on most peoples' minds. so I will take this opportunity to say here's hoping everyone has a  peaceful and gentle Christmas.

Some people here will and some won't , that is the way of the world

I just hope that everyone will

Lock Up Your Chocolate

Well the household has been somewhat upset as George has been a little overactive ever  since we got home last night.

We can't pin point the reason for this sudden change in activity save for the fact that a single maverick ferrero rocher had disappeared from the kitchen work top.

Mind you, we had not worked that fact out until this morning, too late to do anything about it.

If it is a chocolate reaction, albeit it a small one, we will just wait until it gets out of his system

Unfortunately dogs and chocolate don't mix especially at Christmas as a forgotten chocolate gift under the tree can be eaten within seconds when you are not looking.

Our First Welsh terrier Finlay, once ate a small piece of Mars Bar he found when out for a walk and literally went off his bonce for nearly 24 hours.

Such can be the reaction !

I am working this evening, my last shift until the 28th. So in reality I won't really relax into  Chrimbo apathy until tomorrow.

Here's hoping for a peaceful shift

Post

I am typing this in Trelawnyd "dead time"
I have already walked the dogs but its way too early to let the birds out.
Such is the problem of winter
Too dark means foxes
Even at 8.15am
I am going to be busy today.
Last minute Christmas Shopping in Llandudno
Meeting Chris for Lunch
then back for dog walks, hen lock up and the Sainsbury's trip
I think I have remembered everyone.

The last gift was for our postie, which I managed to pas to him at 6pm last night when he delivered our cards.
We are the very last but one delivery for him, and at Christmas despite being on his feet since 6am he always remains resolutely cheerful and chipper!
He always reminds me of one of those stereotypical characters from an Ealing Comedy
A big Smile and a "Cor Blimey missus! it's cold today!" sort of mentality
He deserved a little Christmas Gift even though it was a pretty average bottle of white!
Mind you the poor sod has had to run the gauntlet of William's mischievous nature for a year or two now as the Welsh Terrier absolutely loves to snatch any letter from out of the postie's grasp as soon as the envelopes "peep" through the letterbox..
The "game" has gotten" so boisterous that I have had to resort to leaving a small note of caution on the front door which states more or less
" WARNING :don't poke body parts through the letterbox"
Now I have gone all "Carry On!".....
oh that reminds me does anyone remember camp 1970's comic Larry Grayson?
he had a friend who was a postie
he was called "Pop-it-in-Pete!"
Funny what you remember

And......................action!

Kath in yesterdays comments mentioned "Trelawnyd-The Movie"

I enjoyed the concept and

 have been casting for the main characters (in my head of course)

Mr Crowe has been tentatively approached to play my good self

With Mz Mirren co-starring as Pat, The animal helper

Albert Finey in the possible acadamy award winning role as The RFWF!

Dan Stevens smoulders as affable despot Jason

Francis Sternhagen as Auntie Glad

with

Sophia Loren as Trelawnyd Val

Toyah Wilcox as visiting best friend Nige

Judy Dench as Mrs Trellis

and starring

Hugh Bonneville as Dr Christopher!

 co Starring The flower Show Committee?

Rooster Cogburn?

and special guest star
George Clooney

as the pig vet

HUMM, waddu think?

I would be interested in who each bloggers would like to be played by?
eg

and starring

John Hurt as

Tom Stephenson

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!)