A Big Blue Cock

Well, it was lovely to see my father in law ( to be) in London today. He was cheerful and avuncular as   always, but external factors made the rest of the visit to a rather hot and over crowded capital rather less than totally enjoyable.
First was the tube strike.
This necessitated several forced marches on packed over heated streets and one 10£ aborted taxi ride of 100 yards down a gridlocked Strand.
Second was a piss poor meal grabbed at a pub not far from Charring Cross ( our original lunch booking was at a rather nifty gastro pub in Bloomsbury- owing to the aforementioned tube strike we had to change our plans)
And Third was a disappointingly shite comic version of The Thirty Nine Steps in Piccadilly.
Now some of the production was mildly amusing and inventive, but I had already lost the will to live as soon as a hundred schoolgirls marched into the stalls in front of us, each one clutching a bag of crisps.
I am typing this on the train home. I am sweaty, tired, worried that Eirlys' front room has  been decimated by three terriers and a hormonal bulldog and am irritated  that I have spent far too much in Marks and Spencer's food hall.
Having said all this, it was lovely to see my father in law....and I am grateful ( honest I am......I'm a good girl I am!) for the chance to have a day out.
The highlight of the trip?
Apart from a few hours with my fiancée and FIL doing something different.
It was the fucking big blue cockerel in Trafalgar Square
Cracking

Trelawnyd in Bloom

18 degrees and it feels like summer.

I have been staying close to home most of the day as I have been waiting for my nephew to collect and return the Berlingo. It's having it's pre MOT resurrection 

The whole village seems to have burst into life...literally........ 

With spring flowers and gardening activity going on everywhere.
Apart from the vicar, who seemed to be having a bad day ( I made very sure I didn't officially ask him to open the flower Show) , everyone I met seemed to be bright in mood.
Peter and Val waved energetically at me through their garden sprinkler when I took the dogs for a walk and as I walked down high Street " Gay " Gordon bellowed
" HELLO FLOWER" cheerfully just making himself heard above the din of the council workers who were cutting the village green grass
I took these snaps as I ambled 

Stan & kit 's  garden,one of  the best in the village

The Conservation Group's  flower border outside the church

Pat  Bagguley's garden

Wallflowers on Bron Haul

Bonnie & Clyde

Bonnie & Clyde are alive and living in Trelawnyd

George has now taught Winnie to steal eggs

It's a case of Monkey see,  monkey do

I noticed the pair up to no good over in a patch of nettles and knowing that one of the geese had 

Constructed a make shift nest there, I grabbed the ipad to record what the two

unlikely egg thieves were up to

Virtual Flowers For Tom

Our kitchen table this morning....how very fucking Homes & Gardens?

The garden at Bwthyn y llan, always looks it's best in early May. Cottage flowers such aquilegia, Jews mallow, bluebell and tulip adorn not only the borders but can be found plonked into vases around the living room and kitchen.
It's my favourite part of the year.
Now I posted the above photo for Tom. No, not stone Mason, " Bath" Tom, the rakish imp , celebrity banter expert and scourge of every young pretty barmaid this side of the M1, no, I am sending this virtual bunch of flowers to Angola Tom of
Hippo On The Lawn fame. ( click the word hippo to find the blog)
A day ago I received an email from tom's wife, Marcia stating that Tom had been extremely poorly in hospital. She told me he was improving but was very weak, so I thought ( like you do) that if the old duffer could muster the energy to tap the keyboard on his computer, be may appreciate a " get well soon" token of free welsh flowers .
Having gotten to know tom over the years, I do know that his admission to hospital was a serious affair., after all, this is the man who was recently bitten by an angry puff adder and who dealt with the resulting necrotic foot with a slug of whiskey and a bandaid.
Hats off to the old soldier
They breed them tough in the colonies don't you know?
I tried to type in capital letters, about the risk of infection, the need of IV antibiotics and the probability of septicemia .... He just smiled a lot and attacked the bite with a razor, hot water and a towel.......
Come the zombie apocalypse get behind Thomas.... That's what I say!
So I am sending him our collective best wishes. I know that many blogging enthusiasts in this odd little world here follow Hippo On The Lawn avidly.... And why wouldn't they? The adventures of his adventures in Angola make Auntie Glad's scones look just a little wan
This world is made just a little richer and more interesting with Tom's writing and escapades still in it

Alarm Call

A hormonal turkey, laying hens, a cockerel   a snoring bulldog and night shift

Invisibility

Just off to bed as I am working tonight

Have a look at this video

X

Into The Dead

I have another guilty secret.
Ok...Everyone knows of my addiction to a certain savoury snack food ( the nectar of the Gods that is breadcrumbed   covered pig meat surrounding a perfectly boiled hens egg)
Everyone understands that I am a sucker for poultry lost causes
And my teenage fascination with AMC's Walking Dead knows no bounds.
I am, in fact, a sixteen year old nerd who has unfortunately let his body lapse into that of a 51 year old man.
It happens.
Ok ,back to my new guilty secret.
No, I haven't been making up phantom animal ailments again so I can visit the George Clooney vet
And no , I haven't been pulling the Church bell again out of devilment when I am dusting the font

My guilty secret of today is that ( pauses for dramatic effect) at 51, I have started to play one of those " video" games that I have always and vociferously slagged off as being " brain dead" over the years.

Loaded onto my ipad, I can now indulge myself with my zombie fix, whenever I like..

Now I try not to indulge in public ( I did shout out a slightly over excitable yell of  " BASTARD!"  on the train when a bleeding walker grabbed me when I was running through a corn field...and so I have limited myself to a quick ten minute fiddle every evening.......it's great fun.

Paws

Bulldogs have dinner plate sized paws
I've only just realized