Twatface

There is nothing more satisfying than someone turning the  tables on a bully. You just need to log on to YouTube and type in the words to see a million hit video of a Russian drunk getting bitchslapped or a fat  American schoolboy getting his own back on the class psychopath.
It has to be said that Karma is satisfying.
This morning I was going to post a photo of some donated veg. (I am planting out " Bososms" today and thanks to the "screwdriver wheeling  lesbians from Prestatyn" I now have  a plethora of seedlings to transplant)  but What I will do is share a little story of about karma.

Now for several weeks now Albert has been bullied by a scruffy feral black and white longhair Tomcat, who I have nicknamed Twatface. Twatface is based for the most part in the churchyard and surrounding fields and like Albert seems to be an expert rabbit killer. I see him daily, sitting in the long grass,giving me the evil eye. He never looks a happy chappy.

Now several times a night, Albert will come into contact with Twatface. There is no yowling, no growls no spitting ( or not much) to be heard , just the suddenly and loud clatter of a panicked Albert bouncing through the kitchen catflap with all the speed of Shelley Winters doing a bungee jump.

So far, Albert has been lucky, for Twatface has not been able to catch him on his gallop home, but the constant daily gauntlet must be wearing on the old nerves, for a black cat with a slightly deformed leg

This morning, as I was hoovering fluff from under the bed, all hell let loose in the cottage downstairs.
I hurried down to see a wide eyed Albert standing on the back of the armchair and with the dogs baying somewhere down the garden path.
Twatface had been ambushed.
Obviously he had caught Albert somewhere out in the garden. Albert had bolted for the catflap, but with the kitchen door being left open he had galloped through the silent cottage followed closely by Twatface, who thought all his Christmasses had arrived at once.
Adrenaline had perhaps clouded his mind somewhat

I would have paid 10 quid just to have seen his face when he ran into the living room, right in front of four dozing dogs on the couch.

Albert with his " smug bastard" expression, after the hysteria

Taaaa daaaaaa!

It's late and I have almost finished
Among the many MANY things I have sorted through tonight
I have found
45  assorted pens
A long forgotten box of vintage 1940s Christmas Crackers
£3.28 in change
A card of acknowledgement for a card my mother sent to the Kennedy family after the assassination  
of JFK
My grandparent's birth certificates
The bill from All Bar One from My first date with  chris!
A tiny piece of mummified toast
2 teaspoons
A photograph of me and my mother  taken a couple of weeks before she died
( it's the ONLY photo taken of me and her together since I was a baby)
My grandfather's wartime identity card
And most bizarrely 
Tucked under a load of old photographs
An old fashioned  lady's sanitary pad
Hello?

Bollocks!

My debit card has had a malfunction, so before it's replacement arrives , I had to physically go into the bank this morning in order to get some money. I used my driving licence as ID only to be told by the cashier that it was  4 years out of date!
FOUR YEARS!
FOUR FRIGGIN YEARS!
Anyhow, the DVLA were very helpful and said everything should be ok as long as I renewed my licence immediately, which I have done, but the whole debacle has reinforced just how slap dash I am with paperwork.
So! With the spirit that won us the war, I have emptied all of those paperwork boxes from every corner of the cottage into the front room.
Tonight ....I will flex my long forgotten  organisational muscles
And kick some paper ass!


Only Love Can hurt Like This

I love Paloma Faith
This belter is her best song to date
Bloody hell...dog management and popular music all in one day
How eclectic am I?
Tomorrow what will it be?
Hits from the shows and the life and times of Benny Hill?
Who knows
Enjoy

Dog Etiquette

Albert waiting for George to pass him on the garden path..he ambushes the Scottie
On the path everyday, giving him a quick smack up the arse as he passes
Nervous old Meg with George

 Yesterday I somewhat pompously educated two kids on the right way to greet a dog on a lead. I think I scared them ( and their Sunday dad who was walking with them) when I stopped their excited " run up to say hi", but it's something I am quite strict upon when out in public.
My rules are:-
  • Always ask the owner if you can approach
  • Stop short of the dog and offer your hand
  • Wait until the dog approaches you before you pat
It's not rocket science.
My dogs are all wary of strangers. William is the friendliest, but will only approach a new person

after he is able to sniff an extended hand. After this cautious first introduction, he is likely to climb
into anyone's lap if allowed.
Meg is the most nervous dog, and will hang back from any introduction unless the visitor is in the 
house, and George will just bark a friendly but incredibly loud " arrrooooooo" at anyone he does not 
know., which sends most nervous individuals scurrying for the hills.

William. Mr nice guy
 Out in public, it is Winifred's reaction to strangers that amuses me the most., for she will actively
ignore anyone and everyone who tries to make a fuss of her. Yesterday the kids on the country path tried every trick in the book to get her attention and all she did was to dead eye the pair of them and turn her back . Like Meg, she will only greet visitors who are invited into the cottage.

Winnie showing her " dead eye"
The children who approached the dogs yesterday, may now think just a little before they gallop up to another dog in public again. It's just a mark of respect.......after all, I wouldn't run up to a perfect stranger and rub his ears, pucker up to his nose and tickle his chin without at least saying  a polite " hello" first
Well.....not unless he's Russell Crowe ..............

15 minutes


There are times in a person's life where solitude is absolutely vital
Sitting on the loo is one
( I will never understand couples that are able to poo away for England whilst sharing a bathroom and some light conversation)
Beavering away in Bosoms is another.
Other solitary activities ( STEADY THOMAS) include

Sitting in graveyards
Baking! ( I hate mixing flour and eggs when someone is friggin lurking )
And Watching Zombie tv series

Listening to The Archers is the last on the list
For years I have insisted that at 7.02 am every night ( except Saturday's of course) the kitchen door is closed, all conversation is ceased and I am left alone with the washing up and Ambridge's finest.
It's a ritual that may look pretty mundane to a causal observer,
But its an important fifteen minutes in my day..........
What is your " I Vont to be alone" moment?




Brain storming

Apologies for banging on about it
But the sisters ( and their spouses)
Came around this evening for the first " wedding" brainstorming session
This " action shot" is of them flicking through wedding mags
I love janet and Ann's ideas for decorating the village hall already
Jam jars with spring flowers
Cream scones and bacon butties

( there are no dogs in this photo as Winifred over excited herself with the female company and had to be led away to the kitchen with the others to lay down in a darkened room)

George Clooney is my dad

An old Welsh Terrier's baby teeth
Head lying on my chest as soon as I tumbled into bed at
8.45 am this morning
Just looked after a very very confused man all night
Which is exhausting work on a one to one
At 6 am he told me that I " looked too old to be a nurse " and added
" you look like my dad"
" is your dad George Clooney?" I said with a tired smile
" yes he is" came the reply