Blog Christmas Greetings

Now, I am aware that it's time to send out my " blogging" Christmas card before 

for many of us, real life takes over from blog life

And so to readers of Going Gently from Trelawnyd to South Africa, the USA to Canada

Australia to New Zealand, Angola to South Yorkshire 

France, Bath, The Netherlands 

England , Scotland  & Wales

And all places in between 

"Have Yourselves A Very Merry Christmas"

And Remember

A bulldog is not just for Christmas

The bitch is for friggin life!

Seasonal London

Me and Nu ( me with my big head)

Cities in general, always look at their best at Christmas.

I think it's the combination of dark skies and coloured lights that tips the balance

London was full of good cheer today, it had shed some of its antisocial bad boy image.

I am typing this on the virgin train home.

A group of Samaritan volunteers at Euson  Station were singing carols amid the crowds, and although the was a sense of " I've got to get home" urgency hanging in the air.... I and many other commuters seemed rather moved by the spectacle of it all.

I have had a lovely .24 hours in the capital. Swan lake at Saddlers Wells, cocktails and a meal out overlooking London Bridge and the twinkly Thames and a catch up with an old friend.

What could be better?

Like I said London was on good form...as was Nu.

I slipped all of my loose change into the samaritan's collection bucket before I legged it to my train.

" have a lovely Christmas" the volunteer called out

And do you know what?

she really sounded as if she meant it ...............

Nu and the city

Seeing Nuala

http://disasterfilm.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/rat-under-sofa.html

Sandy asked me if I was the exterminator at home

The above link perhaps will answer this question quite nicely

Anyway this morning I am off to London
I am going to see Nuala my " touchstone"
We are going to the ballet, we are going out to dinner and we are going to talk all day
It's a Christmas tradition

Nu, has been my best friend since the late 1980s
She has been my rock
My constant
And my buddy for more years than I care to remember.
And I love her dearly
Today we will be touching base...it's been far too long

She is as essential to me as breathing

Disaster!

It was still pitch black outside and several hours before dawn when I woke to the sound of running footsteps on the stairs

The dogs ( with the exception of Winnie) were all asleep in bed with me

And all woke up with a start when the bedroom door burst open with a bang

And framed in the light from the hallway 

Stood Chris

He was panting 

Something was VERY WRONG indeed

What was the calamity, I hear you ask?

A family trauma?

The fairy lights on the tree on fire?

Someone had broken in and had nicked all of the Christmas presses under the tree?

No

It was something so much worse

Measuring his words slowly

Chris told me what the disaster was

" THERE IS A BIG SLUG IN THE PAN CUPBOARD!,"

he gasped

RING THE FRIGGIN POLICE!
I said with a sigh

And The Winner Is.....?

The " winning Tree"

This year the village looks quite Christmassy thanks to a selection of 

bright fairy lights scattered on trees, bushes and in windows.

I unofficially judged the illuminations thus evening

And my findings were as follows

Third place : The Furneaux Family's neon blue fairy lights on London Road

Second place: Val & Peter's ( also London Road) multicolored creation in their corner tree

And First place goes to Eileen Jones' classy blue and green display on High Street

Mr Magoo

Chocolate money & an interested bulldog

Today, I caught the bus down to town

I grabbed my " egg money" from the drawer in the lounge for the bus fare before  I collected Christmas cards and hurried outside to the bus stop

When It came the female bus driver looked just a little exasperated when I hurriedly put my " loose change" back in my pocket in order to check my coat for the fare 

For amongst the 20p and 50p coins, there were four silver and gold chocolate money coins

Sat incongruously in my palm

I had been given the chocks by my mother in law and I had hidden some of the uneaten ones away in the drawer.

I need some new glasses

"Ho ho .............bleeding ho"

Every year I hand deliver around fifty Christmas cards around  Trelawnyd, and every year what should be a leisurely stroll full of festive cheer becomes two hours of dog induced stress as dogs cannot quite grasp the finer points of visiting  strange front doors and new, interesting smelling paths in order to shove a small envelope through a little slot in a door.

Leads get tangled.

Doorsteps are pissed upon

And open doors are invaded.....

So by noon, I and they were all hot , sweaty and Very pissed off and I STILL  had eight envelopes left to deliver at Rhodfa Arthur ( the Welsh for Arthur Avenue) so the prospect of walking all the way round from Well Street , along the main road to the final cul de sac felt one step too far.....

So I took the sneaky short cut, and dragged the dogs through  Beryl  Evans' back garden!

I was just tip toeing past her front door when it opened and a rather surprised Beryl said " hello?"

" your Christmas card" I mumbled offering it to her ...it had a sloppy bite mark on it where I had held it in my mouth after yet another tangle with the dog leads,." you keeping well.?" I asked her in passing

" No .." She said " I'm not feeling very well at the moment"

" oh dear" I said and   marched  off

I just needed a sit down and a cup of tea

The Old Cowboy

After letting the animals out first thing after night shift

I grabbed -a one hour sleep, then took Chris down to the station, walked the dogs and returned

home to catch up with jobs.

I couldn't help noticing  the bundle of feathers lying quietly in the corner of a run when I entered the field......

Without a fuss the blind old rooster Cogburn, like his cinematic namesake, had finally faded into the sunset 

He Sat on his porch so to speak, with his face in the sun, and there, quite suddenly and gently, he had died.

You can't get too sentimental over poultry.

They are scatterbrained scraps of feathers connected together by a beak who die as easily as Christmas cards are thrown in the bin after Boxing Day .

But there was something always so very valliant about Cogburn who lived his small blind life in a chicken wire run without misery and without  resignation.

He just

Got on with  things.

Animals do

A bit later I will take his body down to the badger set in the next field

There is  no point not to recycle his remains

But for the moment

I can't  quite get around to move him from his small , earth floor home

So I will leave him for a while

My old cowboy

Asleep on his porch
with his face in the sun

My old boy