Bosoms Revamped

Sylvia and Irene reviewing Bosoms II

" Bosoms" my allotments are in need of a bit of a revamp.
The terrifically wet winter , badger activity and infiltration by the poultry and sheep have all taken their toll, and so I have decided to let the old vegetable beds revert back to grazing land and move the   allotments to the top of the field where drainage is better.
I shared my ideas with villager Islwyn ( a guy who loves a project) and hey presto plans had been drawn up , a digger suddenly materialised and great tracks of land were cleared much to the joy of the hens and sheep who hoovered the uncovered ground with gay abandon.
Islwyn suggested constructing a new fence seperating "bosoms" from the livestock and also noted that the church wall needs reconstructing ( he taught me how to repair other parts of the Church wall a year or two ago)....so it feels a little as though he has the bit between his teeth.....and when Islwyn has the bit between his teeth...the ONLY THING to do is to go with the flow!

Who looks worse?

I am not quite firing on all cylinders this week. ( as you can tell from the above photo of me with the blind Rooster Cogburn in which I must sadly admit that I look as rough as a donkey's dick)

My cold has returned, and I have temperature....and before you all start leaving me comments to see a doctor...I AM going back to my GP!

Hey ho

Goodbye To An Old Pirate- John Lloyd-Ellis

I have been to many many funerals in my time.
family.....family friends.....friends....colleagues........neighbours and patients.....
They are all generally hard work on the emotions, especially when the grief present is raw and each service I have experienced always seems to possess it's own unique sense of sadness and occasionally  joy. Joy at the celebration of a life most extraordinary .
Over the past few decades, it is more acceptable for the service to be led by a minister 'supported' by family and friends who often read a personalised eulogy of sorts.
In my experience, if is often these intimate glimpses of the deceased that provide the most "joy" at a funeral for they always seem to underline the real love that is felt and the real affection that is often shared.
I have seen my fair share of piss poor funerals where it was obvious that the vicar hardly knew the deceased in question. it was  either that or the fact that they couldn't really be bothered.
my mother's funeral had a sense of this...a fact that made my blood boil......I was just grateful that I pushed myself forward to read a home spun eulogy...a eulogy that perhaps tried to capture the sense of the woman. A woman that was as complicated as a Rubix cube in a dark room.

As you might have guessed it was the RFWF's funeral today.
In the packed marble Church at Bodelwyddan, the Rector did indeed capture a little of the " exuberance " of the man as did one of his oldest friends who told a perfect story of how the RFWF whilst on a mobile carol service around the local farms bellowed lustily "SING YOU BUGGERS SING!" from the back of his trailer which housed, of all things, a strapped on piano!
Personal eulogys always bring the stiffness out of a funeral day.....especially when you look and sound like an old pirate!

John, for that was the RFWFs name, was buried in our churchyard here in Trelawnyd. I stood stiffy in the field holding the thumb stick he had made me, and waved gently at his wife and sons as they walked slowly into the graveyard with the congregation. After all of the help he had given me, rounding the pigs up, providing a never ending supply of bedding and hay, and putting down fences and the like....I thought it was fitting I paid my respects right here with the turkey gobbling noisily in the background and with mud on my shoes

Postscript

Well on the back of making a tit out of myself in front of a pretty face

I can at least add that I have learnt something new today

After billing and cooing over Mr Clooney

I tried to make amends by buying my first tube of doggy toothpaste

The receptionist told me that it was 'liver' flavour and seemed quite befuddled when I proceeded to open it and taste it.

Believe me...it DOES NOT taste of liver 

No way

No how

Shut Up!

I called up to the vets today very early.
I had to drop Chris off at the train not long after 6 am
There was no point going back to bed for a half hour sleep or so.
Anyhow I called up to pick up some antibiotics for Stanley. I thought I would give his a course just to make sure I have done everything I could for the old guy and they are pretty good at trusting me when I need to diagnose and treat the animals myself....so generally I save a packet.
George Clooney was on duty and just so happened to be behind the counter when I was paying for the drugs and in his seductive, film star voice, he gave me a suave " hello there" in passing
I blushed heavily, straightened my new woolly hat ( which Chris described as a maroon tea cosy) and  looking like a teenage schoolgirl I squeaked my own, slightly strangled...
"Hello"
Mr Clooney nodded then added like the excellent vet he is " how's your Scottie...did his stomach settle down?"
IT was an absolute age since I  brought George in with a bout of enteritis, so I was impressed with his memory....and I turned all smiley and giggly on myself, as the hero worship kicked in big style.
I could have kicked myself

Is this a normal sort of  reaction to a pretty face?
Does everyone who normally can act and sound like a perfectly reasonable adult in mainstream day to day existence evolve into a vacuous brain dead bubble head when a pair of baby blue ' Daniel Crag ' eyes are flashed in their general direction?
I was smiling at Vet Clooney so much, the girl behind the counter started to look a little uncomfortable,, and I am sure she rolled her eyes just a little when I squeaked up again
" He's fine but he does have bad breath"
BAD BREATH? BAD BREATH! what the hell are you thinking of? Stop babbling I said to myself.... But on I marched...sharing every detail of just how smelly George's breath can be as Mr Clooney and the receptionist stood there bored shitless
I only stopped babbling when I realised I had turned into the worst cougar impersonator EVER !

And knowing I had made a tit of myself I finally asked lamely
" do you sell doggy toothbrushes?"
" I will go and check" the receptionist said with a thin smile.

Red Shirts in Atlanta

It must be a real bummer being a character on a show like THE WALKING DEAD

one minute you think your career is on the up

Then BAMMO....you are cannon fodder..

Poor Axel ( Lew Temple)

The only apocalypse survivor with an obvious sense of humour

Out without anyone knowing his second name,

it's the zombie equivalent of wearing a red shirt on Star Trek

The King Is Almost Dead......Long Live The Badger

The oldest patriarch on the field is Stanley.

He is at least seven years old and could be as old as eight, we have no way of knowing, as he arrived back in 2007 unwanted, from a farm way up in the hills.

During his time in Trelawnyd, he has been a hard working and dedicated alpha male. He has watched over his hens with a dedication that bordered on obsession, and has proved his worth time and time again in the maintainance of a bitchslapping free population.

Cockerels are instrumental in keeping the peace amongst bullying and argumentative hens

But the ravages of time have taken their toll and slowly and surely the old guy has turned into Jaques from AS YOU LIKE IT...." Sans taste, sans eyes, sans teeth (albeit it hens' teeth).....sans everything"

He is now the old fading retainer who spends his days resting and napping by the fence and it is only a matter of time until his son Badger,the junior cockerel,takes over responsibility for the hens.

I have only realised all this today...

Luckily Badger is as good natured as his father, so no blood has been shed between the boys as yet. but I am sure it will happen when Badger realises that the old king no longer has the physical strength and motivation he used to possess.

In the meantime old Stanley continues to fade.....

and I think that after all of his hard work over the years

he deserves a few more days of peace with his face in the sun.

Touching Base

London as it was yesterday, cold, snowy and mighty fine

I always enjoy my London visits.

Of course the chance to be neat and tidy, the opportunity to 'see the sights', ' do the shows' and eat the eats are all part of a wonderful break away from the humdrum and the ordinary, but for me, the main enjoyment has to be touching base with Nuala.

For over 23 years she has been my best friend and all of those 23 years she has lost non of her lust for enjoying everything that comes her way.

It is an enviable, infectious  and laudable ability .....to enjoy new experiences, new people and new things with optimism and genuine pleasure and it is an ability that Nu manages to carry out effortlessly but never demurely.

I am lucky to have her around.........

Anyhow I am on the train back home now.

This morning I bought a mixing bowl from John Lewis for me and some tea 

 from Fortnum & Mason for Chris

I enjoyed a sneaky scotch egg while out walking along the South Bank and surprisingly have spilled nothing as yet on my second best jumper of the trip.

It's been a nice break

Shard Feelings

Nearly two days and a trip to the theatre,cinema,coffee shop,Borough Market,Brazilian eatery,fish restaurant later..I thought things couldn't get any better but they did.....Nuala remembering my fetish for skyscrapers treated me to a wonderful trip up the London Shard.....
My boyhood TOWERING INFERNO obsession was well and truly relived....hey ho.