Control

Did I tell any of you that I am a bit of a control freak?
Oh yes..... I am!
I am certainly the " cock of the walk" when it come to home life
I control furniture arranging duties within the cottage,
I choose the decor,
I do the gardening and the DIY
I even have sole responsibility for naming the pets.
It's all me, me , me, me me!

Well I have just taken the first baby steps in relinquishing control over something at home!
It was tough!
And I have had to bite the old tongue several times ,
But I have done it!
Today I have let the Professor start work ALONE on the cottage garden.


I almost wavered somewhat, when I thought he was about to pull up a particularly favourite aquilegia  of mine.... But I kept my trap shut.....
It's difficult to keep stumm when you are a natural gob shite

Crime Scene (CSI Trelawnyd)


You will have to read the previous post to understand this update

A neighbour suggested a novel way of making a point of this morning's 
erratic driving

Mrs Slocombe's Pussy

 "You know, animals are very psychic.  I mean, the least sign of danger and my pussy's hair stands on end."
So trilled Mrs Slocombe in an episode of Are You Being Served back in the 1970s

People that overly pamper their pets have always provided sitcoms and movies with stereotypical battle axe matrons and camp old queens, who kiss their pooches on the lips whilst cooing
"Whose mummy's little soldier?" 
I generally don't have much time for people that treat animals like surrogate fluffy babies
And so
What have I found myself doing?

Mr Gray's Pussy
I have been making a rod for my own back
That's what I have been doing.

A few weeks ago, in a fit of decadence, I bought Albert one of those expensive gourmet food packs from the supermarket.
bugger alone knows just why...instead of his usual non branded, foul smelling meaty chunks, Albert  was suddenly faced with a "cuisine seafood medley" or a "chef's collection" of delicate " mini fillets in a sumptuous gravy" 
And it all went to his head.
Now he won't touch his normal food
And looks at a mound of whiskers as if I have just offered him a pile of my own faeces on a plate
I have created a gourmet loving monster snob cat


"I've got to get home.  If my pussy isn't attended to by 8 o'clock, I shall be strokin' it for the rest of the evening."

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I will conclude today's rubbish with a bit of a sad tale. A woman from the village knocked on the cottage window early doors, to tell me that one of my chickens had been squashed in the lane.
The car that hit her was a 4 x 4 out on the school run, and the chicken, that was killed was left right in the centre of the road for someone else to deal with.

Escapees always run the risk of a careless driver
And Sod's law dictates that she was one of my best layers.

Hey ho

Be Careful What You Wish For....


A Previous " object of desire"
My gargoyle birthday gift from Chris a few years ago
I had wanted one for years
Bugger knows why
Working on Intensive Care gives a person a chance to thank goodness for the good things of life.
Having a healthy and happy family and friend group , of course is the most important thing to be thankful for in this world.....but once you put that aside ( and all nurses have to put this aside in order not to go gaga in the workplace) " what I want" is an interesting debate to have in the wee small hours of a night shift, when a gaggle of over tired night nurses get together over a hastily grabbed cup of instant.
Having taken a healthy family as a given, most people said they wanted a bigger house, a bigger garden, the opportunity not to work, more money..... Nothing too original there......
But after the dross......more interesting things started to appear.
A pair of Manolo Blahniks.....an apartment overlooking the Bay Of Naples.........a personal shopping experience........a professional cookery course.......a magnificent new cleavage......a J lo arse

And so.........What did I eventually ask for, I hear you ask?
Well the answer is an easy one

A Cow full of milk........of course

Whinging Pom



Bloody Hell my last post was all a bit Whinging was it not?

So much so that I have pulled myself out of my lethargy
by the proverbial bra straps
and have hit my lists running

A rambler has just stopped to buy a couple of goose eggs.
She wanted to paint them rather than eat them
Silly Mare

To Do.....

There is still a crack in the toilet after the "chase the rat" incident,
And we need Lino laying on the kitchen floor.
The grandfather clock in the living room has never ticked a tock since it arrived six years ago
And the front windows of the cottage need painting before summer.
The hot water tank needs an electrician's overhaul
The Berlingo is ready for it's MOT
And Bosoms has to fenced after all the badgers will be running amok on the field very soon.

The hens need worming
Albert needs a dose too
And William's anal glands are in need of a squeeze on the kitchen table under a strong spotlight of course
Oh I have just remembered, several of the spotlights need changing.

I am overdue for a dentist review,
The rubbish in the outhouse needs a trip to the tip,
And it's almost Chris' birthday
I need to sort out his "surprise" and have no idea what to do as yet

Normal " stuff" .......we all have it to do it
Jobs need to be ticked off, and things need to be done
So this morning , sat at the kitchen table with a coffee I have made my BIG LIST of " to dos"
It covers a whole sheet of A4

I have just re read it.......
Sigh
I need another mug of coffee.............

Oh no....not the kitchen table thing again!

The Hobbit



Against my better judgement
I have just sat through three hours of the bleeding HOBBIT
Which was a polished, steaming pile of shit
This about finishes the day off beautifully 
Roll on wednesday


A Funny Nothing-sort Of Day

The woman in the post office didn't seem to possess a sense of humour
When she asked me was the parcel I was sending worth more than 20£
I piped up with a cheerful " no it's a scotch egg from Marks and Spencer, I think it's worth 95p"
She didn't smile
She looked determined enough not to....she was in that sort of mood
She didn't even ask me just why I was sending a reinforced scotch egg in the post to a Devon artist who doesn't get out much....
I was disappointed...
I was just ready for a bit of good natured banter

One egg in the post ..one egg for me
It's been a disappointing sort of day all told....
I had a call out from a man in Cwm (it's a nearby village) who said that he had two hens walking about his garden and could I take them in as they were frightening his bird table's regulars.. I dutifully drove up and spent a fruitless hour or so thrashing around his shrubbery with my thumb stick but no hens could be seen..... I have a feeling the chap ( who was slightly frail) must have seen a couple of hen pheasants mooching around his garden....

I wanted to get my potatoes in ....but arse pain prevented it
I wanted to fix the back light on the berlingo but was given the wrong bulb by the chap in the shop
And I wanted to paint the last of my hen houses a lovely shade of " old English Green" but the paint brush's bristles fell out cos I had left it in the turps for too long

It was just one of those non days I suppose.....
Hey ho
Ps the day did get better....the great British SewIng Bee has just started.....Ah Patrick Grant!