Taking Some Time

Sometimes it's important to take time over something. Some tasks need care and patience. Some things should not be rushed. 

Every morning, I let the blind cockerel, Cogburn out of the controlled environment of his run, for some exercise. I can only do this when the other cockerels and the geese  are safely out of the way, for as big as he is, he remains the most vulnerable animal on the field.

I have a 101 things to do most mornings. Today was no different. I needed to fill the water butts on the field border, the eggs in the incubator in the kitchen needed candling, potatoes needed to be planted in bosoms, which is now full of weeds after the overnight rain and I needed to start the strimming of the mountains of nettles which are now screening the pig pen, but something in Cogburn's behaviour made me pause for a moment in order to watch him.

In the breeze and the early morning sunshine, Cogburn seemed to blossom. He moved his big feet on the grass, like a city dweller does when on the beach for the first time , and he turned his head to face the warmth of the sun, blinking his unseeing eyes slowly and carefully in obvious enjoyment.

It may sound odd to say it, but it was incredibly moving to see the big fella so alive and so vital.

Despite the list of jobs, irritatingly fixed inside my head.

I slowly sat down beside the blind old cockerel to let him enjoy the morning sun without being rushed

The Shame.......The Shame.......oh The Shame

I went to see a nine year old sports physiotherapist this afternoon

I thought a physio assessment would be of more benefit to me

I am still suffering from sciatic pain down my left leg.

I made sure I was all squeaky clean for the " hands on"

I smelled of soap and Clinique "happy"

I even wore a newly washed pair of pants

And when the physio bent my knees up in order to stretch my spine

I let out a huge, loud,wet FART

Oh the shame
The shame

I cannot really remember much else about the consultation

World swallow me whole

Wish I did!

Calling All Locals

Calling all locals

This is a reminder that

Affable despot Jason 

Has organised a " Jack the Ripper" evening on Saturday Evening at the 

Memorial Hall.

Retired detective , writer and presenter Trevor Marriott will give a detailed

And innovative review of the Ripper killings from a modern day perspective.

Sounds fun does it not?

Get your tickets from Jason 

At Ty Wynne, Chapel Street.

Oh Dear

just a quick postscript to my previous post.....
And a reply to the rather abusive post entry from a certain RED NINJA who apparently joined Blogger today just to call me ( and I quote) a "homophobic abusive excuse of an arsehole"
Now the " arsehole" description I will accept in part.....( it had taken nearly 51 years fully develop my acid, razor sharp wit) but .........homophobic.....I am afraid , I shall not accept.....
I suspect Red Ninja (?) hasn't quite cottoned on to my unhealthy obsessions with a certain Russell Crowe and the zombie killing red neck, Daryl Dixon........(The Walking Dead)
Perhaps she was blinded by my use of the inflammatory stereotype of lesbians being handy with screwdrivers......hey ho.......who knows.....
You just can't keep everyone happy....
So.....Red Ninja...if you are reading this
Eat shit and die
Xx

Daryl Dixon kills Ninjas

A Lesbian With A Screwdriver

There was a bit of folklore in Sheffield which stated that if you were a single gay man, you could always find a possible date at the flagship Waitrose supermarket on a Wednesday night .
Conversley Lesbian dating, it was said, was based,  at the DIY Superstore B&Q on a weekend...
I know lazy stereotyping
But ever so slightly amusing
Yesterday the two ladies who had suffered the fox attack over the weekend, dropped off their now unwanted hen houses,and runs. Every piece had been dismantled, within an inch of its life, and so, I was ever so slightly anxious at the prospect of sorting through a huge pile of timber, screws and chicken wire which was piled up in a mountain by the gate.
Now, I am not known for my woodworking skills
Especially when I have no paper instructions to follow......
I know, I looked a little worried!
Anyhow the kind ladies must have sensed my anxiety, for as the last bit of wood was dropped on the grass
They asked for a few screwdrivers, screwdrivers which they flipped professionally in their hands.

" Come on Pam " the First Lady said, in a rather passable imitation of Sigourney Weaver out of  aliens
" let's kick some ass"

In just half an hour the pair, helped occasionally by me, knocked up three hen houses, and two runs.....which are a complete godsend, as during the next two weeks, I am expecting two broody buffs to hatch out their chicks and the ducklings are due too, in their incubator in the kitchen

Thank you ladies. Both of you were stars 

Ripley would be very proud

An Old Soak

Dogs enjoy shit
It's a fact of life.
They eat it. They play with it and unfortunately they roll in it.
it's a delightful habit.
Around 8am this morning I put a stinking William into a hot soapy bath.
He's unusual in the fact that he absolutely adores the whole bathing experience, which is lucky, for this morning he experienced a nice long soak.
Sod's law dictated that I when I had lathered him up with shampoo there was a knock on the door.
It was a neighbour wanting eggs. I had just boxed a few up when another visitor arrived, a woman who wanted to buy some ducklings. Luckily I have duck eggs in the incubator, all of which are due hatching in a week, so I took the woman on the field to have a look at the " parents".
before taking a provisional order for a trio.
I then fed the fox attack hens, cleaned the wood burner out, sorted the kitchen into shape and was just spooning dog food into three bowls when there was yet another knock on the kitchen window.
The woman waiting for eggs must of thought I was mad for just as I handed them over the garden wall, I bleated out " bleeding hell I've left William in the bath," and ran off
It had just gone 10 past 9
He had been standing in the bath for over an hour

Before

And after

That Jolly Old Lesbian

........Claire Balding has won a BAFDA for her work on last years's BBC Olympic coverage
gawd Love her....... She deserves it...big style
Almost single handed lay she dragged BBC's Sport into a class all of its own
good on yer gal

An AFS Badge

In our house Sunday morning is a time for pottering and jobs. The Professor , In between his academic chores, has planted out buddleia in the garden, whereas I have splashed bleach around the cottage with gay abandon and have run amok with the mop. It's been the usual Joan Crawford " I'm not mad at you...I'm mad a the dirt" moment......... Come on we all have them...don't we?
Anyhow, as I was shifting some papers, this old badge slipped into view.
It was my grandfather's old uniform badge from his wartime Auxiliary Fire Service days in Liverpool, and I had long forgotten that I had kept it
He used to fascinate and frighten his grand children with stories of the Liverpool Blitz during the 1970s which, if you think about it was only 30 years after the true horrific events. Bloody hell it was only recently that I blogged about my own experiences as a student psychiatric nurse... And they were recalled from 30 years ago as well........Historical memories are only a stones throw away when you think about it , and after my generation has gone, there will be no one around to remember things like my Grandfather's heroic experiences down the bombed docks of Liverpool's waterfront or indeed  my own, more minor experiences nursing the lunatics of Chester.....
The Professor has his own thoughts on legacy and epitaphs.
" what would mine be?" I asked him
" Your blog" he said....
And that's perhaps why I felt the urge to document, albeit briefly, what my grandfather had done.....
Nothing EVER is forgotten on the Internet is it not?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anyhow after dog walks and jobs, come a most welcomed early Sunday afternoon sit in front of the fire......today, as the Prof jumps into his research papers , and the dogs make themselves comfortable in the arm chairs.....I am going to watch a re run of Sherlock

And finally....a quick photo for Pam, the lady who suffered the fox attack yesterday morning. Your hens are doing just fine and have perked up after their ordeal. I am keeping them in a small secure run until Tuesday, after which they will have free reign over the field.