Blown off for a bird

Well the old gal who got dumped by her family on Christmas Day finally blew my offer of Marks & Spencer nibbles out of the water in favour of a full Christmas dinner kindly cooked by another neighbour. This tickled me greatly, but I still went round laden down with a selection of goodies as well as Albert's 'slightly tainted" individual sherry trifle for her tea....at 82 her immune system could probably keep a small town on it's feet, I thought.
As it happened , when out with the dogs,I did spy a few more visitors knocking at her door in the late afternoon.....this also pleased me greatly
The Christmas spirit was alive and kicking in our small and wet neck of the woods

Ps
One of my more "individualised" Christmas gifts was a calendar from best friend Nuala, depicting "The World's Most Eligible HOT ROYALS!"
My favourite must be April's Grand Duke Guillaume of Luxembourg
How very Downton

New IPad Christmas

Ho ho bleeding ho

"Get Yer Head Out Of The Trifle Bowl!"

The Prize for the best Christmas Card we have recieved this year goes to an old friend Judith from the Isle Of Man

She must have forgotten exactly where we lived as the address on the envelope stated simply

John Gray

Top of the Hill

Trelawnyd

Wales

This tickled me.

Anyhow am off now to soak my trifle sponges

unfortunately

Albert has just stuck his head in the double cream

(I did note that for the past hour he had been licking his arsehole in front of the fire)

Hey Ho

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