Jesus Loves me ( This I Know...for the Bible tells me so)

Some animals suddenly become extraordinary tame. It's an odd phenomenon, for it doesn't always come down to the fact that they are hand reared or cared for when ill.
Some animals just take to you, whether you like it or not.
Jesus , the only chick on the field this year has had a checkered little life since he was hatched on Easter Sunday.
Raised by the last crackhead whore who rejected him  as soon as he feathered up, the little hen has suffered the last of the badger attacks ( his coop had it's nesting box ripped away in the night but he was small enough to keep out of the way of hungry teeth) then found himself bullied by the larger hens in a succession of robust hen houses before being set up in his own raised coop out of the way of  predators.
His adventures has made him strangely confident, and over the past week or so, he has actively sought me out every time I appear,forcing himself in my hand time and time again to be petted.
Perhaps it's a case of not biting the hand that feeds him

I think the photo captures his personality quite well

I have a feeling he's quietly bananas 

beneath the feathers

Calling All Entries & A Country Church Service

Former novelty veg entries

We are having a Flower Show Meeting this evening around Auntie Glad's table.

It's a time for agreeing who will do what on the day, and as usual the whole event will generally look after itself

( with a bit of help from our now 13 strong committee )

For those that are interested in entering.

The Trelawnyd Flower Show Schedule can be seen here
Click on the link

http://trelawnydflowershow.blogspot.co.uk

The show is open to all and we are always delighted to
receive entries from all over the county and from postal entries from blog readers
( go on! Enter the photograph section...or the hand made greeting card perhaps?
Or some of the craft sections?....it's a bit of fun)
If you have any queries , my contact details can be seen on the Flower Show Website

---------------------

Anyhow on a more restful note
When I was out on the field last night on " badger watch"
I could hear singing and music coming from the church
I didn't know there was an evening service on
I took this brief video
Even though I am not a church goer
The sound of the voices of the small congregation rather moved me

Nite nite

Heaven

Today's earlier blog seemed a little serious

So I will balance it with a little bit of luxurious frivolity

With Chris working away, I was only going to have a bagel for tea

But Val & Peter from Anchor house 

Called round and dropped off a cannon ball sized , bespoke black pudding scotch egg

from the Hawarden Estate farm shop

http://www.hawardenestate.co.uk

It was bloody lovely!

More For Less

The crime figures for our region for May
Five villages 10 reported crimes
In Sheffield ( central) the figure was 1135

It is generally thought that a good tv documentary should be an informative, balanced, interesting and thought provoking piece of work.
Last night BBC aired the second part of Police Under Pressure, which is a sobering look at community policing in and around the city of Sheffield. The programme was less about coppers banging to rights scumbag criminals and concentrated a rather depressing view on just how the force is having to cope with massive cut backs in funding whilst having to adhere to government targets in crime figures.
The simple message was clear for an fool to see.
The city police was was expected to DO MORE
With LESS police officers and FEWER support staff.
As Americans would say...you do the math!

One after another, tired looking and demoralized police staff kept on repeating the corporate mantra of work "being a challenge" to the camera, where we the audience all know that the clear  elephant in the room message is you can only fire fight a problem for so long before anarchy surfaces.
The bubbling unrest between Roma and Pakistani communities in the Page Hall area of Sheffield being a sobering case in point.

We take policing for granted. In the Uk the public takes the health care system for granted
also.....both organizations are teetering on the edge of an abyss...and collectively none of us are doing anything about it.
We just expect help to be there when we pick up the phone.....

Community policing in Trelawnyd

Winnie guarding the cottage this morning

Flower Beds & Zombies

 I just wanted to add to today's post by memorializing  the hard work carried out by  the village Conservation group this morning. Flower Beds have been dug and laid out. Planters filled

 And lavender borders laid out along the village green paths.
And as usual the majority of the village will take all this effort
totally for granted

Anyhow

I am typing this on " badger watch" by the field gate.

I am standing with a hoe in my hand

( no dirty jokes please)

Whist playing my favourite " into the dead" zombie video game

I an reliably told by the makers

I am now ranked an impressive 695th in the GLOBAL

YES I SAID GLOBAL RANKING!

I am a sad fucker

3.30am

The lane at 3.30am

Occasionally I do a 4am- 7am SAM shift. Seeing Chris needs the Berlingo for 6 am, I can only do the shift if the other volunteer can give me a lift.
I was up and out of the cottage for 3.30 and as I walked around the garden wall into the lane I caught sight of my nemesis , playing with her robust looking cubs underneath the dim beam of the lane light.
The badger sow has five almost fully grown babies,  who chatted and grunted like fat piglets  around their mother. It was a awesome sight, I have to admit, even though the family is undoubtedly responsible for the majority of my field losses recently.
The family moved off to root around the reinforced Ukrainian village like miniature hippos , and I could almost sense that the hens, ducks and little Jesus in his raised hutch were all holding their breath  until the badgers had moved on.
Only the geese screamed out their challenge from the robust goose house , biting at the wire of the small window in anger.
The siege war continues 

Trelawnyd Pride

I noted with some mild interest that my former home town of Sheffield staged its Gay Pride march and festival yesterday and it seemed to have been a successful event despite the weather.
(British rain does not quite balance out with scantily clad queens in Lycra shorts)
Now, I have just realised that I have never been to a Pride event in my life. Back in my single days in Sheffield the gay scene centred around a couple of seedy clubs in the rough part of town, a particularly common " wine bar" called Dempsey's (with its cheap flooring and and a clientele who carried bargain shop  carrier bags) and occasional camp nights at the Art Deco ballroom at the City Hall." Pride" was an event to take part in London and Manchester......cities that glittered a little more brightly than Sheffield once did.
Thankfully that has all changed.
Anyhow as I lay in bed this morning covered in Welsh Terriers, I got to thinking about Gay Pride.
My gay pride ......in fact.
It's a subject  I don't really think about really.
Am I really proud to be gay?
Well I guess the answer must now be yes... But it it also needs to be balanced with everything else I think I am proud of. Being gay, is the least interesting part of who I am.
I am proud I am part of a supportive and close family.
I am proud to be a nurse
I am proud that we are a part of a community that we contribute to
I am proud of the village Flower Show,
I am proud of my friends.
I am proud that my bulldog doesn't batter a fat eyelid when faced with Pippa Barnsley's baying hounds in the lane.
At 52 I am now generally more comfortable in my rapidly wrinkling old skin than I ever have been.
I never really think about anyone I meet being homophobic anymore. If they dislike me, I put it down to the fact that I can be an argumentative  little shit rather than to the fact I have a rather unsavoury thing for Russell Crowe in his floppy hair phase.
Having said all this, Pride Celebrations are vitally important  in reinforcing acceptance and identity and one day, I would like to walk the walk along side and in support of others who have found their " gay journeys" not so smooth or easy as perhaps we have done over the years.

I will leave you with a story from the 1980s, when an old friend and Felicity Kendal look-a-like , Home Counties, mom of two Carol had been just informed by her teenage son that he was gay.
Gay Pride was a rare thing " up north" so in a moment of solidarity she secretly travelled to London in order to walk beside her son at the gay pride march.
In those days the organisation of the march was somewhat haphazard, and Carol ( in her best twin set and pearls) got separated from her son, so ended up falling into conversation with a " group of rather scruffy ladies from Birmingham"
Imagine her surprise when she met her ex husband and mother the next day , who turned up at her hone with copies of the Sunday Telegraph under their arms.
On the front page was a photo of Carol walking alongside a shaved haired lesbian who was brandishing a placard which screamed
" BULLDOG BRUMMIE DYKES ARE HERE TO STAY,"

.