Encore

Chris has been working in London for most of the week

He took one day off to go over to France with his mother 

And he bought me a typically French themed gift

What do you think?

When the visuals are THIS GOOD

A blog is worth repeating

I have been running around the field in it frightening the sheep

Who said ponchos aren't sexy

We could be twins

French Leave

Chris has been working in London for most of the week

He took one day off to go over to France with his mother 

And he bought me a typically French themed gift

What do you think?

Dirty Feet, The Winner Is.........and English but not as we know it

I spoke to Chris last night.

He has been working away all week and will be back today

" have you been looking after yourself ?"

He asked after he heard I had been mooching around Bosoms all day

" yes" I told him

" have you had a bath today?"

" Of course" I replied

And then I looked down at my feet

He knows me well

Ps

Just been down to the Prestatyn Flower Show......my veg box won second prize...my cabbage won second prize and my curly Kale won second prize........always a bridesmaid and never the bride eh?

The winning veg basket.....a worthy winner...the bastard!

My curly kale!

My flowers ( fifth from theleft top row) didnt get placed...bastards!

The Floral Art Section

and to end....

The Open Allotment Day has had some publicity

in the local paper.

Nice Picture of village despot Peter Vincent with "the turkey"

but i have to say that I despair that the twelve year old reported referred to the day

as a FATE

rather than a FETE

Even I know the difference

Bosoms comes up trumps

Before our own flower show here in Trelawnyd, there is the much grander and comprehensive Flower Show down in Prestatyn to contend with. My elder sister Ann, runs this show , and has done for years, so today, is the day that I have to prepare my entries. Tomorrow the show opens.
I have not really got a good eye when it comes to arranging veg, but I hope that the above basket may win me something......
Tally ho

George

I guessed right

The Royal Prince of Cambridge

Will be a 

GEORGE

A Phone Call From A Stranger

I heard a rather heart warming story yesterday.
The Red Faced Welsh Farmer's son stopped his tractor for a chat just as the storm clouds fizzled into nothing over the village. Like his father, he's a straight talking  country bloke but shows a softer , more articulate side when you get beyond the pleasantries.
The RFWF' S mentioned that he keeps far too many contacts in his mobile phone. He was sorting through them the other day and picked out a name of a person he hadn't spoken to for at least a couple of years.
On impulse he give the number a call , but the guy that answered was not his former mate, but was in fact a complete stranger from Birmingham.
Being a sociable soul, the RFWF'S started to chat to the unknown guy on the other end of the phone.and after a few minutes of friendliness he said his goodbyes but not before the stranger thanked him for calling.
" I had been having one of the worst days of my life" the stranger honestly confided
" your call's turned all that around..."
Kismet? Fate? Call it what you will
I thought it was all rather lovely.

No Apologies

I am a Royalist

No apologies

No explanations

End of statement

Disgusted from Tunbridge Wells

OMG

It's happened

It's finally happened

I have officially and dare I say willingly joined the ranks of all sad middle aged " disgusted from Tunbridge Wells" letter writing, " nothing better to do" old farts....and I have caught myself leaving a public note out complaining of the amount of dog shit on our lane.

Ok, I did hand write the notice ( rather than print it out in some gothic script) and I didn't resort to some passive/ aggressive platitude.........favouring a more direct " don't do it" kind of message

However

!

I DID laminate the notice and I did feel the need to write the bloody thing in the first place.

bollocks!

It's official

I am now my father!

God help me...... What next?

Will I be believing everything that's written in the Daily Mail?

Will I start to buy those sensible pants from the Sunday supplements ?

And will I start developing a crush on the likes of Carol Vorderman and Edwina Currie?

All I do know...is that I have finally turned into a monster