Here's To You Mrs Robinson

I am waiting for a chicken to cook. Then I can retrieve it from the oven to cool so I can go out for a walk. Chris is off to London at 1pm,  so I need to get an early lunch ready, he is busy sorting the academic world of research out in his office.
I have been clearing clinkers out of the living room stove.

" ok lads , same again!"

For over twenty minutes Winifred has been trying to seduce George. Her method , me feels, is based on Anne Bankcroft's performance of Mrs Robinson in The Graduate , albeit just slightly more subtle.
Back up to prospective victim
Push vagina slowly into face
Wait for a reaction.
I am sure that this ploy has worked very effectively for her in the past.
George however, unlike Dustin Hoffman, is not interested and has spent the time counting the small green leaf designs on the living room wallpaper.
That's my boy!

Many many moons ago now, I was subjected to a rather florid seduction attempt from an older woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to Joanna Lumley ( well to her alter ego Patsy Stone actually) Luckily I don't remember that much about this unfortunate interlude, (thanks to the mind numbing properties of Gordon's gin) But at least , it can be said that
I have ticked that particular box so to speak....
A box, thank goodness, that I shall not be revisiting anytime soon.

Scald

Irene keeping her distance in the  background after the tussle

A disabled rabbit

A hormonal and sexually promiscuous Bulldog

A cat with an arthritic back leg

A run down muddy coloured hen

And now a couple of limping sheep

What next?

One of the Welsh terriers with a STD?

I wouldn't be at all surprised.

Anyhow I knew roughly what to do with Irene and Sylvia, 

Check the hooves, shorten them if necessary and spray the feet

Giving particular attention to between the toes

Simples

There was only one fly in the ointment

I have not managed to catch either ewe as yet

This morning my sheep(y) friends came around to help catch the buggers, but both ewes Sussed what we were up to and kept their distance.
This afternoon I waved a couple of pieces of cheap white bread at them and in the
Scrum that followed caught irene by the horns and then
got smacked a nut busting clack in the knackers
before I managed to trim and spray her feet.

I have asked gentleman farmer Ralph from down the lane if he would help me catch
Sylvia tomorrow
She's so nervy I am contemplated spiking her corn with
Rohypnol

I think I sprayed more of my hand than the sheep's feet

My purple fingers with a rather worried Mary

Game, set and match

 Do people joke around at work anymore?
I seriously doubt that it does, what with HR's bullying policies , harassment at work directives and a workforce that can't seem that they can take a bit of horseplay or leg pulling.
People seem to take umbrage so much quicker nowadays.
Now, let me make something very clear. I cannot abide destructive and cruel bullying behaviour, but in my experience real bullying is often much more subtle and insidious than a whoopie cushion  on a chair or a good natured Micky take.
I once worked on a rehabilitation ward with a boisterous enrolled nurse called Karen,who was a self proclaimed " Queen" of  the workplace practical joke. For over a year the pranks against each other grew in complexity and effort. She would whitewash the windows of my tiny terraced house in Walkley. I would remove and hide all the wheels from her car.....it was that sort of silliness .
Eventually the pranks faded away, when I got a junior sister's post . It was a time I felt I needed to become a little more professional in the workplace.
I think that Karen thought I had " sold out" just a little and I remember one day she turned on me during a ward round discussion and accused me rather angrily of not being " any fun anymore"
Her words stung somewhat, but I finished the ward round professionally, completed other jobs on the ward then called the staff into the office for handover.
Handover was a  time for a chat and a cuppa. So I made several cups of tea, left the tray in the office and rushed down the ward where one of the older patients was eating his dinner and whispered  to him
" give me your false teeth"
Surprisingly enough he handed over both sets without question, and seconds later I was back in the office handing out the tea mugs to the staff.
Karen drank half her cup before the teeth clinked gently at the bottom of her mug
The screaming was heard on every ward of the Spinal Injury Unit.
All I said was a smug " game , set and match"

It's Official, I am a village old lady

I was cleaning Winifred's tuppence with a soapy dishcloth when the phone went.

It was Mrs Murray

She told me that her close friend Eileen is to be buried next Monday with the funeral " tea" set out in the Memorial Hall afterwards, and asked if I Would be free to help Mrs Bagguly and Mrs Jones with the refreshments..

 Of course I  said I would be free to help.......

There is nothing more impressive than a proper welsh funeral tea.........

A Tesco special offer

Wrong Day. Wrong Film

I wasn't quite in the mood for the " harrowing" story of redemption and forgiveness  set against the Japanese brutality of Allied POWs during WW2, you have to be on fairly robust form to sit through Colin Firth doing haunted and Nicole Kidman doing worthy.
The Railway Man is an appropriately difficult and  for me an unoriginal watch. I am sure that it had
plenty to say about the remarkable real life hero Eric Lomax.but like I said, I wasn't quite in the mood for it all.
Before we left, I had made the mistake of ringing work to find out the fate of the patient I had worked with during two incredibly hard and stressful twelve hour shifts last weekend. The patient was young and was terribly poorly and the very " intensive" nature of my interactions with him and his family had meant that I had forged an unique bond with them all. This is common phenomenon on ITU where 1 to 1 nursing is the norm.
Anyhow, as it happened I spoke to the nurse who had originally handed over the patient to me, just before she left for home and she told me that the patient had sadly died of his injuries.

I am generally well able to compartmentalise work into a safe  and well managed little box, after all, I had done it for so many years now.
But I felt somewhat deflated and upset about what had transpired all this evening.
Two hours of Colin Firth' s morose face didn't help either
Hey ho

Supporting Old Friends and Slutty Behaviours

The Scala

Trelawnyd lies in the historic Welsh county of Flintshire, whereas the nearest town of Prestatyn lies in the county of Denbighshire ...yes it all sounds rather Hobbitish does it not?
Anyhow as part of the ' austerity' cuts Denbighshire council has seen fit to reduce its funding to the Scala, the one half decent independent cinema in the area, and like many businesses, the cinema is starting to feel the pinch.
I am passionate about supporting small community centred cinemas , too many times have we heard the mantra of " use it or lose it" in this day and age of no free rides, and so as often as possible we will go and watch a film, have a coffee in the cafe or go to one of the special screenings of " live at the National Theatre" .
Bums on seats
That's what is needed to keep these places going.
Of course we can all do our bit to help just that little bit more, so yesterday I called into the Scala in order to join their new lottery. The lottery is designed to plug the financial hole caused by local government cuts and if supported may well keep the cinema going to fight another day.
I do hope so.
The scala and the small 100 seat art house cinema at Theatre clwyd in Mold have been good friends to me since I returned to Wales. They have made up for me not having my old city based film buddies, Nu,Mike, Nigel and John H  " on tap" so to speak
I couldn't imagine not having them around.

And now for the Porn

William and George,had their knackers off many years ago now, so are not overly interested in a hormonal bulldog, even though she is presently wagging her fanny at anyone who would care to offer it a glance.
The poor girl is looking decidedly frustrated.
A chap from down the lane stopped to buy eggs this morning and even he got the " fanny waving treatment"
He never even battered an eyelid when I apologised and started to replace her padded underpants
Winifred has morphed into a slag.

2 weeks to go!

Village news

Another stalwart of Trelawnyd sadly passed away a day ago.
Eileen Jones, of High Street did a great deal for the village community and the Church over many many years and in that typically Welsh matriarchal way supported everything from village fundraising , Church social activities, Flower Show and so much more.
She was one of those unsung heroes of village life, who rolled up her sleeves  and did rather than sat down to watch.
Unfortunately they are a somewhat of a dying breed nowadays.

I found this lovely version of Calon Lan recently. It is the mainstay hymn of many a Welsh funeral, and means literally " a clean, or pure heart"
This version is sung by Cape Town's Youth Choir
When one of the village community passes away, I always wonder if it will be sung again in the little church here........as so often it is.