Classy Bitch

It has been just one of those wet and miserable days today....the sort that mean that you get a soaking every time you venture out of he door. Finally, I had to sit in a hot bath, just to make myself feel a little more human and was just enjoying the peace and quiet of the living room post soak, when I thought I would capture this idyllic moment for posterity
The bulldog belch at the end just about kills the mood

Sigh

For a minute or so I was convinced I had contracted " something serious"

I was peeing blood at

a wee stop just after antiques road trip

Then I remembered

I ate two large portions of pickled beetroot for lunch

Two new Beaks

Although I have done my stint on the community council, I have agreed to continue helping to develop the council's official website.
Today I took the opportunity to take some " local photographs" for it, although I have not got a brilliant eye for an arty shot and had just got back home when another small addition to the Ukrainian village turned up on the back of a farm trailer.
Chicken coop number 14, complete with two ancient and half blind hens were in need of a new home. The family's new puppy had made it his mission to eat the poultry's droppings at every given moment and had made himself poorly., and so the pensioners had to be rehomed
With me
Heyho

Bingley giving the pensioners the once over

Not an interesting fart based blog entry
Apologies......

Windypops

A black dot, George lagging behind old farter

No rain but sunshine today...the first in an absolute age. I made a huge pan of sprout soup for my lunch ( don't try it at home folks) then spent the day making the most of the fine weather and cleaned out coops for my sins.
Before dusk, I took the dogs for a walk on the old railway line between Dyserth and Prestatyn
Where the sprouts reeked their revenge
I counted 21 farts in a one mile stretch
Is that a record?
I need to get a life

Hawking

Tonight we went to see the documentary Hawking 
The study of the life of Stephen Hawking was , for me, a bit of a hard slog.
And when chris and I left the cinema! I asked him why he thought I did not enjoy the film!a film which I described as being rather sterile
" He's an eccentric academic.... That's why you couldn't access it.....there's no flapping emotion for you to latch on to" he suggested

He knows me so well

A Dirty Muffin

Am I the only person that sees the funny side of very ordinary things?

I was sat in the vets early this morning with a very itchy William

( now there's a double entendre if ever I wrote one)
And I was Hoping that George Clooney was on duty

There were three customers

Me

and two middle aged women, both with cats in carriers

We introduced our pets in passing
William
Smegal
And a somewhat angry looking Persian called muffin
Muffin's owner called over to the receptionist and asked which vet was taking the clinic
" I have to tell you before I go in" she confessed " that he's been living in an outbuilding for a few months"
The woman looked over at me, and in way of explanation said in a very posh voice that her
" Muffin  was all wet, dirty and terribly unkempt "
I bit my cheek and looked down at the floor
as the receptionist started to cough

Remembrance

No, it's not an incredibly thin dalek goosing Mona Davies
It's Merion Ellis flexing his walking stick
The villagers at the War memorial 

Remembrance Sunday always has a tendency to make me feel just a tad melancholy
It's not that the fallen that give me cause to reflect
It is the increasingly small band of those who are left, that leave me feeling just that little bit hollow.
Today a few hardy souls gathered around the village memorial to pay their respects to the six Trelawnyd men that were killed in two world wars.
In a few years time there will be no one around to salute the fallen. the baby boomers like me, are perhaps the last who heard of the war first hand from those that experienced the horrors of it, after we are gone, so are the links with a time that shaped the modern world.
The " new " conflicts of recent years will then be the conflicts of old men's conversations.

I took Winifred with me, as I thought a Churchill-esque presence would be appropriate.Strange that Winifred's former name was a totally inappropriate " Poppy" ...inappropriate for her...appropriate for the day......

Chris Does The Bus

What a lightweight... Three large glasses of white and I was fast asleep of the last train home last night......how sad is that?
Anyway we left the old Berlingo by the station, and so had to get the bus this morning down to town to collect it.
On a Saturday there is only one bus from the village
Now, you have to remember that Chris does not "do" public buses
The very thought turns him into a very passable imitation of Maggie Smith's Dowager from Downton Abbey, and so it was with somewhat of a devilish heart that I made him walk with me to the bus stop in the centre of the village.
In "Chris world" a bus ride could be a gentle, quiet and private experience. The reality of the situation was somewhat different when a largish gaggle of local grey hairs ambled noisily from the pensioner bungalows to join us in the bus shelter.
Now I know most of these characters , where as chris does not, and I could hear Chris mutter under his breath when local larger-than-life " gay" Gordon bellowed his usual "HELLO FLOWER,"as he limped across the road with his neighbour ( an elderly lady with a walker) in tow.
"MORNING MY DARLING!" Gordon sang out when another neighbour , Rowena,  passed the bus stop on her way home." FLUTTERING YOUR EYELASHES AT ME FLOWER YOU NAUGHTY THING" he flirted away as Rowena gave him one of those " get away with you" waves.
He then turned his attention to me and asked me in his theatrical way how all the animals were doing
as more  ladies from the pensioner bungalows arrived to join in the chat. Gordon sang out a lusty
" DO YOU KILL YOUR OWN COCKERELS JOHN?"
Chris tried to disappear into the background as I answered him.
It was getting all a bit much for him
" I USED TO GUT AND PREPARE HENS AT A FARM IN SARN" Gordon continued to explain to the small crowd
" I USED TO DRAPE THEIR GUTS AROUND MY NECK AND CHASE THE LOCAL CHILDREN" he added colourfully
Chris groaned to himself and said " how lovely"
It was all hugely entertaining.
And there was another ten minutes of all this before the bus arrived.

Half an hour later we had reached Prestatyn and jumped off the bus into the the sun
Chris didn't say much, but his face was a picture

" never again" he said simply